


Among Us

by FreakOfYourNature



Series: The Monsters Among Us [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Prototype (Video Games), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk (2008)
Genre: Alex Also Likes Being A Little Shit, Alex And Bruce Have One Collective Brain Cell And Neither Of Them Uses It, Alex Is Also Team Iron Man, Alex Is Team Fuck Canon, Alex Likes Being An Eldritch Horror, Alex Mercer Is A Good Bro, Alex Will Provide Said Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Character, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Is Team Iron Man, Author Refuses To Acknowledge Anything Past The First Avengers Movie As Valid, Bruce Banner Feels, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Bruce just fucking rolls with it, Civil War Team Iron Man, Do Not Repost My Shit Without My Express Permission, Except When Alex Is Composing God-Tier Roasts, Gen, Graphic Description, He Takes Threat-Elimination Duty Very Seriously, He's A Sapient Virus Guys - Those Don't Have Sex Drives, How Did You Guess?, I Cherry Pick Canon For The Juicy Bits, In This House We Do Not Leave Teammates For Dead In MFing Siberia, Isekai, Male Friendship, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Partially Inspired By Among Us The Game, Protective Bruce Banner, Science Bros, Sir That Is My Emotional Support Elder God, Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Which Is The Polite Way Of Saying Steve Can Go Eat A Bag Of Dicks, Why Does No One Write About The Stealth Potential Of Blacklight?, Why Yes - The Author Is Still Saltier Than The Dead Sea, You Get Updates When You Get Updates, a friendship so platonic you'll cry, canon? never heard of her, do not reupload, even though civil war doesn't exist in my canon nope, fuck the ending of endgame, i post only to this account on AO3, inconsistent updates, monster bros, no beta - we die like men, no update schedule, none of that horseshit, not team Cap friendly, protective Alex mercer, steve rogers can go ingest an entire satchel of richards, touch his friends and get eaten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:15:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 106,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakOfYourNature/pseuds/FreakOfYourNature
Summary: Despite all the knowledge that he'd collected over the past few months, no one knew for certain where exactly the frozen comet containing the original sample of Redlight had come from, only that it was far past what even the best telescopes could see.The living embodiment of the Blacklight virus had a sneaking suspicion as to its origins though.He stood back and beheld his latest handiwork. On the wall were words written in human blood. It was something he'd come up with on his own and he was inordinately pleased with himself."They say that when you gaze into the Void, the Void also gazes back into you. What then, do you do, when you gaze into the Void, only to realize you've just been looking into a mirror the entire time?"Below that was a blood-stained ID card that had been nailed to the wall using a sharpened human rib bone. 'Mercer, Alexander, J.' it said.Not anymore I'm afraid. I'm something less than human, but also something more.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Bruce Banner, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Alex Mercer
Series: The Monsters Among Us [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126622
Comments: 199
Kudos: 331
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts





	1. There Is One Imposter Among Us

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the re-write! Now with less infodumps and rushed exposition, hopefully! Also now with 500% moar creepy eldritch!Alex for your reading pleasure. Also now featuring slightly-less-eldritch-but-still-unnerving!Bruce.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

His ribcage expanded, but it was a laborious thing. His breath echoed and rattled through his heaving chest as he fought for every breath, every desperate gasp of air. His fevered body fought with all its might against the virus ravaging it, but it was losing slowly, and he knew it.

He mentally raged against his inevitable death though. He would not go quietly into that good night. He had so much he wanted to do before he shuffled off the mortal coil, but it looked like he’d be forever denied the opportunity. He knew it was a long shot in the first place though, and he silently fumed about his inevitable fate.

Idly, he hoped he might be reincarnated as an animal of some sort, preferably some kind of adorable dog that would belong to a good family. He’d always desired to know what it was like to exist as something other than human.

He didn’t like being human. Too many responsibilities and expectations. Society was too flawed for him to find much enjoyment in it, but there was jack-all he could do to fix any of it. He was but one man, and not particularly well-off either. The world spoke the language of money, and he didn’t have enough of it for the world to give a shit about him.

Even if he managed to survive the COVID-19 currently ravaging his body, he’d be destitute. His insurance wasn’t very good, and they’d fight tooth and nail to avoid paying for any of his treatment, he just knew it.

When he realized that, he silently despaired. His family was gone—had been for a while, and he didn’t have any friends. His life was lonely and a bit pathetic if he was being honest with himself. He’d just never managed to make meaningful connections with anyone outside his own family, not that he’d tried particularly hard, mind you.

Humanity was just so…mundane and boring. Nobody strove for anything anymore. Space travel was all but a relic of the past, and everywhere he turned, the world just seemed to be falling further and further to pieces.

He thought about all of this as he struggled for breath in an overcrowded hospital. He knew deep in his soul that he wouldn’t be making it out of this one alive, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to any more.

_Please, let my next life be more fulfilling than this one. Let me know what it is like to soar above the clouds, or to swim through the deepest oceans, or to race across the earth upon four legs. Let me truly live, wherever death might take me._

He passed from the world not with a bang, nor even a whimper, but the slow, quiet breath of someone letting go.

* * *

Though he was unaware of it, his soul resisted the siren call of the afterlife. He wasn’t ready to go yet. Many souls experienced something similar, but unlike them, he turned away from the light and instead looked to the shadows. Something was there, he could tell. Enormous beings sang enchanting songs as they drifted through that endless space.

Something primal told him that if he went there he could never come back, the darkness would snatch him up and make him its own. It would bury its claws into his immortal soul and change him forever, humanity ripped away or so thoroughly twisted he would become something entirely new.

New. He rather liked the sound of that. What had humanity ever done for him? His life as a human had been sad and lonely and unfulfilling.

So he turned his back on the shining light and went gladly into the dark, changing the course of history forever. The dark welcomed him. The beings Sang and he listened to their wonderful Symphonies as he drifted through the dark, not noticing when the darkness crept in and made itself at home in his soul.

He saw without eyes and heard without ears, and it was all so very beautiful. He did not wish to leave the dark comfort of this place, but something was calling to him. The dark and the Songs of the beings could not drown out the ringing bell of fate.

When he traveled down the dark path that seemed to call out to him in particular, he would wake and remember none of this. He wasn’t yet ready, but he would be.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, he was extremely confused. He shouldn’t have woken back up at all, and yet here he was, alive. Well, he thought he was probably alive. He could not move or see or hear or smell, but he knew he had a form. It certainly didn’t feel like his body though. He felt like he was a liquid. How he knew what being a liquid felt like, he had no idea, but he just knew somehow, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he was currently a liquid.

He appeared to be in some kind of cylindrical shape with a rounded, domed bottom.

 _Like a test tube,_ he thought dazedly.

His liquid form vibrated minutely every few seconds in some kind of unidentifiable pattern. He tried to move in his tube, but nothing happened. Of course nothing happened, he was a liquid, and those weren’t known for being mobile outside of gravity’s influence.

_What is happening? …Have I been reincarnated? But as what though? Why would a liquid be able to think? How would a liquid be able to think?_

He thought such things for a long time, for there was nothing to do but think. He could not see or hear or taste or smell or truly feel. He could only sense the shape that his liquid form was in.

He had no way of sensing the passage of time in his new deaf and blind existence, but he knew that time must have been passing. Occasionally, a long thin shape would come and suck up some of his own liquid body and take it somewhere else, and he could still sense and feel the separated bits of his body. The taken bits would be doled out in minute droplets and pressed flat for many hours. Sometimes other things would be done with them, with strange new compounds introduced to his form or exposing him to different stimuli, presumably.

Sometimes the tests hurt, other times they felt good, but mostly he felt nothing from them. All the tests ended with the separated bits of his form disappearing from his awareness.

He felt brief, faint flashes of searing, painful heat just before the tiny bits of his body were presumably destroyed. They were likely being incinerated. He’d since come to the conclusion that he was in a lab somewhere and people were experimenting on him.

The minute vibrations were a near constant, however, and slowly, the minute vibrations of his form began assembling themselves into recognizable sounds. He could hear again! Maybe now he could find out what in the ever-loving hell was going on.

The vibrations turned out to be voices, and multiple different ones at that. They all spoke English, but he felt odd listening to it, as if it was missing something, some undertone. English sounded bland and flat to his non-existent ears. That didn’t make any sense though, since the only language he’d ever spoken was English, and it sounded exactly like it was supposed to.

Except that no longer appeared to be the case. He hadn’t realized it before, but his internal thoughts now appeared to be in some other language, one that was complex and nuanced. Tone and inflection was important, and the sub-vocals definitely mattered too. No language he knew of had sub-vocals. Human throats weren’t capable of making two different sets of sounds at once, let alone at the frequencies he knew were required, which begged the question: what was he?

He was obviously no longer human, a fact that would have made him a lot happier if he wasn’t being used as a lab experiment. So, what had he ended up as? He listened to the new sounds and voices he could hear, hoping to shed a little light on the situation.

There were usually multiple voices, one of which sounded very familiar for some unknown reason. It was a male voice, deep and somewhat raspy at times, as if the speaker wasn’t used to speaking. It would have been a rather pleasant voice to listen to if not for the fact that the voice would ramble on and on about his supposed capabilities and how excited the voice was for his work to be recognized.

He learned many things from the voice.

The voice belonged to someone by the name of Alexander Mercer. He’d apparently been reincarnated as DX-1118 C, otherwise known as the Blacklight virus.

_Well, I suppose it could be worse, he thought to himself. It seems my unspoken wish was granted. I wonder who was listening? I ought to sent them a fruit basket or something, after I bust myself outta here and utterly curb-stomp Blackwatch. And Gentek, can’t forget Gentek._

_So, how am I going to play this?_

He thought of all of Blacklight’s abilities that had been showcased in the games, but he somehow knew that he’d be capable of so much more. He flipped through his newly discovered mental Rolodex of complete and utter _bullshit_ that he could use to completely decimate his foes, but then he stopped.

_Why should I go around throwing tanks at helicopters and potentially endangering innocents? Consuming things opens so many deliciously chaotic doors, after all. I could totally go all ‘Among Us’ or ‘The Thing’ on everyone’s asses. Why let them even know what’s coming? It’ll be far more fun to go the stealth route and watch as everyone shits themselves as the paranoia and fear and tension ratchets way the hell up. Years of horror movie/video game knowledge, don’t fail me now!_

* * *

Things went much like how he expected them to. He listened intently as Dr. Alexander James Mercer muttered to his Magnum Opus about everything and sundry. Dr. Mercer’s suspicions about the credibility and motives of Gentek grew day by day, until one day the man couldn’t take it anymore and he felt his vial being jostled around much more than it normally ever was.

He felt the warmth of the man’s body heat as he was carried around in what was likely the man’s jacket pocket. His new instincts screamed at him to strain towards the delicious, warm life on the other side of the glass tube, and he was almost helpless to resist. He hadn’t realized before, but he was completely, utterly ravenous.

Opportunity came when his tiny glass prison was thrown violently against the floor. Glass shattered and his liquid form splattered across the filthy tiles of Penn Station. The impact released micro-droplets of himself into the air, and it was only through a truly Herculean effort that he kept his airborne particles inert instead of rapidly infecting every warm body they happened to come into contact with.

His entire being ached with the need to spread, multiply, infect, but he refused to be a slave to his new instincts. Opportunity would soon present itself, he just had to be patient for a little while longer. He shoved his primal need to infect everything deep, deep down where he locked it away behind layers of self-control and mental discipline. There was a reason he hadn’t gone mad in the test tube, after all. There wasn’t much he could do for those probable months except think and meditate. And plan brutal, bloody revenge against his foes. Can’t forget that part.

His patience was rewarded with the thunderous barking of multiple assault rifles in an enclosed space. A bleeding, still-warm body fell directly on top of his main liquid mass, and he wasted no time in tucking into his first meal.

The cells themselves had not yet had time to die, so it was with great relish and satisfaction that he forced his viral form into the very-recently dead body of his creator. Individual cells were taken over in a matter of seconds, but he was careful to make sure that the body displayed no outward signs of its infection.

He forced all the particles of himself not already lodged within Dr. Mercer’s still-warm corpse to self-destruct. He had no desire for an outbreak to happen, no matter how much his stupid new viral instincts whined at him. They could fuck right off. That was how Elizabeth Greene had gotten got. He had had enough of playing lab-rat, thank you very much.

Because he was being so cautious, the infection of Dr. Mercer’s body was taking an eternity compared to how fast he knew he could Consume something, but if he didn’t want to get caught, the slow way it was.

Dr. Mercer’s body was eventually put into cold storage to await autopsy, and he waited until he could no longer feel the vibrations of the voices of the morgue workers before he really got to work. Within mere seconds, Dr. Mercer’s body was broken down into biomass and reconstructed, cell by cell, until he looked good as new in a flurry of red and black tendrils. No bullet holes or bloodstains marred his clothes, and inside the cold-storage cabinet of St. Paul’s Hospital Morgue, the embodiment of Blacklight opened his glowing ice-blue eyes for the first time and smirked with a mouthful of inhuman fangs.

* * *

A few days later, the morgue workers would open the cold-storage body cabinet and find that they were a body short. Dr. Alexander J. Mercer’s body wasn’t in the cabinet where it was supposed to be. It hadn’t been there for days.

* * *

Blackwatch and Gentek were both on extremely high alert. Elizabeth Greene had mysteriously vanished last night, all traces of her gone. All the samples they’d had in storage had up and died in their test tubes as well, even the ones that were in other facilities and buildings entirely.

The cells just seemed like they’d all self-destructed simultaneously. The video footage from any and all of the security cams on Greene’s floor were useless. It had been hopelessly corrupted by some unknown source, presumably a computer virus of some sort, but no one could find any trace of its presence even when they combed the code with the highest level of scrutiny they could.

That was just the beginning though. Over the next three months, several more missing person’s reports would be filed. Occasionally, the bodies of the missing persons would turn up, horribly mutilated and arranged in truly ghastly and gory ways. Strangely, the heads would always be missing.

Various Blackwatch and Gentek members would disappear, and later turn up—sans heads and sometimes other miscellaneous body parts, looking like they’d been savaged by a wild animal. No traces of infection were ever found.

Blackwatch quickly closed ranks and implemented various new protocols meant to prevent people from being left on their own for any length of time. It didn’t help. The entire squad would just disappear instead. Fewer bodies were being found, but that was only because they were turning up in smaller and smaller pieces.

Intestines and limbs would tumble out of storage lockers and fall to the floor with a sickening squelch accompanied by splashes of old, rotting blood. Human teeth would be found inside the rations, severed fingers would be found in the unlikeliest of places, and threatening-looking messages would appear written on the walls in human blood in some language not even their best analysts could place.

The strange sigils hurt to look at and could not be properly documented. Whenever pictures were taken of them, the digital files would inevitably be corrupted. When film cameras were tried, the film inexplicably caught flame and melted.

Staring at the symbols for too long seemed to turn even the most hardened Blackwatch soldiers into gibbering messes that would inevitably turn violently against their fellows, commit suicide while screaming nonsense, or sometimes more rarely they acted like drunken fools high on some psychoactive drug.

After they had figured out that it was the strange demonic-looking symbols causing the seemingly-random bouts of psychosis and insanity, the sigils were always quickly destroyed, but still, no one had any explanation for anything.

Wild, tinfoil-hat-worthy theories were flying everywhere. The prevailing theory was that Gentek had somehow opened a portal to Hell itself during their experiments and a demon had escaped and was hunting them all down like a terrier amongst rats.

(They had no idea that that was the closest any of them would come to the truth.)

After a while, Blackwatch collapsed into a chaotic mess of paranoia and fear. One day, Raymond McMullen’s body was discovered, sans head as usual, crucified upside down with his chest cavity ripped open. His guts were strewn about his personal lab in a gruesome display of savagery and malice. The wet, fresh meat shone in the fluorescent light, the ribs cracked wide and yawning, appearing like the needle teeth of some horrible beast. Even the most hardened soldiers felt ill when they looked upon the grisly display.

More symbols written with the man’s own blood were littered around the place, the lines and sharp curves seemed to pulse with anger and hatred, even more so than they normally did. Whoever or whatever was doing this clearly held some sort of personal grudge against the man.

Across the back wall was written another message, this time in English.

_“They say that when you gaze into the Void, the Void also gazes back into you. What then, do you do, when you gaze into the Void, only to realize you’ve been staring at a mirror the entire time?”_

No one was quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but they all knew it wasn’t anything good. Below the message was a blood-spattered Gentek ID badge that had been nailed to the wall using a sharpened human rib bone. The ID badge belonged to the deceased Dr. Mercer.

* * *

Alex gazed upon his latest bit of handiwork, disguised as one of Captain Robert Cross’s infamous Wisemen. Cross was investigating the scene while other Blackwatch workers quickly erased the sigils written in McMullen’s blood that he’d placed there scant hours before with bleach-soaked rags.

He found it hilarious how badly everyone was freaking out, and he had been having a wonderful time exercising all of his shiny new stealth skills over the past few months. No one suspected anything close to the truth, so he’d decided to taunt them all a little in the form of a cryptic message and Dr. Mercer’s ID badge.

He’d since decided to take his creator’s face and name for himself as his default form. Considering the circumstances, it only felt appropriate. He’d been reborn, and considering how pathetic his first life had turned out, he didn’t hold much attachment to his original face or name. Neither of those things were relevant to him any longer, so he’d moved on to bigger and better things.

He’d discovered so many things about himself the past few months—things the Blacklight virus had never been able to do in the games. He seemed to have access to some kind of bizarre energy that did strange things to reality, but it was very picky about what it would and would not do.

He had the ability to adjust how his mass interacted with the world by fucking with physics somehow, which meant he could potentially glide like in the games and maybe even fly, which he was super excited to test out. It also meant he could compress his biomass into impossibly dense layers and weigh no more than a normal man with very little effort on his part.

He had access to every face of anyone or anything he Consumed, instead of just the last person he Consumed—which was beyond useful. The whole disguise mechanic in the game had always felt limited and a bit disappointing if he was being honest. He loved the first [PROTOTYPE] game to pieces, but he knew the game had its flaws.

He refused to acknowledge the second game in any capacity. Fucking writers just got lazy and totally ruined Alex Mercer as a character because they couldn’t be bothered to come up with an original villain. Bastards.

Finally, he had access to a mysterious language that had a variety of super interesting effects on humans. He had experimented a bit with it, and found that he could sort of infuse his weird new energy, along with emotions, into the otherworldly symbols which changed how people reacted to them. If he didn’t infuse much energy or any particular emotion, the words would just cause humans to be mildly uneasy. If he infused anger or other negative emotion though, depending on the intensity, people might just experience mild headaches or disorientation when they looked at them for too long, or they might be turned into gibbering wrecks that tried to kill everything around them or themselves, sometimes both.

Infusing positive emotions seemed to induce euphoria or an almost drunken sort of happiness. He found it hilarious to write asinine sentences or phrases and then drive people insane with them, or cause them to act like drunken toddlers.

There was just something special about watching a grown-ass man stare at the sentence ‘You are a fucking idiot’ who then became so enthralled by the words that he sat down on the floor and giggled like a loon while drooling on himself like a toddler. It would never _not_ be funny.

He’d decided to name his strange new native language R’Lyehian, after H. P. Lovecraft’s fictional language of the elder gods. When he spoke out loud in his default human form of Alex Mercer, complete with iconic hood and leather jacket, he had to consciously force himself to speak English, otherwise it came out in R’Lyehian. He was getting slightly better about it, though his speech still tended to come out as a strange mix of both if he wasn’t paying attention. Strangely, the problem seemed to go away when he was wearing any other stolen face.

But back to the present.

Alex stood dutifully by Cross’s side as the man tried to put the pieces together. It was funny to watch him fail or shoot so completely off the mark it was almost no longer funny. He eventually came to the conclusion that the whole thing had something to do with Greene, mainly that she’d broken out of containment somehow and was starting a personal crusade against Blackwatch and Gentek. He had no explanation for the symbols though. No one did, not even Alex himself.

Cross was almost right in his theory, but he had the identity of the culprit all wrong. Elizabeth Greene no longer had anything to do with Blackwatch or Gentek, because Elizabeth Greene was dead. Alex had eaten her nearly three months ago and wrenched control of the empty Hivemind from her. He twisted the entire thing to fit his needs and used it to remotely destroy any and all of the samples of Redlight in existence at the time.

While he’d gotten almost no usable memories from her due to the virus basically frying her brain, he’d gotten a bunch of much more useful things in his opinion.

Mainly the Hivemind, but his own viral form had ripped Redlight apart and assimilated its genetic code into itself, allowing him to induce rapid mutations in himself without the need to work off of a genetic template first.

It took longer and required a bit of experimenting, but he’d eventually gained all the abilities the canon Alex Mercer had, all without the need for insane amounts of life-threatening conflict and fighting.

_No weaponized cancer or Supreme Hunter for me, no sir._

He could also extrapolate a lot of possible genetic variations and evolutionary possibilities from a single sample of DNA, so he could do a whole hell of a lot with very little to work off of originally.

In short, he was way deadlier than the canon Blacklight virus could have ever dreamed of being. Alex could wipe out life on the planet by sneezing wrong. With him having a completely decentralized consciousness, he could control every bit of himself simultaneously, meaning his viral particles could lie mostly dormant inside a person’s body as he used them to produce more viral particles that they would then exhale by the thousands, infecting more people and repeating the cycle.

Then, he could just activate all the particles at once and people would drop like flies within seconds as their bodies and organs failed because their DNA denatured into genetic slurry. That completely bypassed Blacklight’s main weakness when it came to spreading itself, in that it usually killed its hosts too quickly to spread itself very much. Who knew that giving a disease the capability for higher thought and advanced tactics would be dangerous?

If he wanted to, Alex could then form infected minions of his own from what was once a person. He had no desire to do that though. The one time he tested it out, it was a trip and a half to see through a new set of eyes and experience the world through a new perspective, one that had its own mind to boot. It was pretty dumb, needing Alex’s constant input to do much at all, and he decided the whole thing wasn’t worth it and reabsorbed the barely-aware creature.

Maybe being forced to be in charge of hundreds of Infected right off the bat was what had driven Elizabeth Greene mad and not the virus itself? Something to ponder later, perhaps.

He could have made it smarter so it was more independent, but that just screamed ‘fucking terrible idea, you dumbass’.

So, Alex was alone on his crusade to make Blackwatch piss their collective pants and jump at every shadow. They made their bed, and now an eldritch viral monstrosity lived under it, and they’d have to learn to fucking deal with it, cause he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

He listened with half an ear to Cross’s orders and eventually left with the rest of the Wisemen. General Peter Randall was his next target, because he was the only man on planet Earth that knew for a fact where PARIAH was being kept. Considering how easily he’d Consumed Greene, he doubted her son would be much more difficult, because no matter how perfectly Redlight had evolved with him, Blacklight would come out on top. It had been specifically engineered to assimilate foreign DNA, after all.

Redlight merely unlocked latent potential and brought the host to its most perfect form when it assimilated with its host correctly, but ultimately humans were pretty pathetic, so there was only so much improvement one could do. Alex was the virus itself in the shape of a human, not merely a host, and he could control his cells individually and adapt on the fly in mere seconds. Redlight would never come close to Blacklight’s level, no matter how improved it was in PARIAH.

* * *

Honestly, it was almost insulting how easy it was to eliminate all his targets. Humans never fucking looked up, despite it being, like, _the_ number one horror movie rule. If you can’t find the monster, chances are it’s directly above your oblivious ass, and about to eat your face.

Considering he could dissolve himself into a boneless tentacled ball made of eyes and teeth and murder, moving around the base undetected through the vents was stupidly easy. A human would never be able to fit in the vents, because human-sized ventilation shafts were a Hollywood fantasy. Considering he was basically a squirmy yarn ball of flesh and death, he could use the tiny vents to get around no problem.

Alex just waited until Randall locked himself in his room for the night and fell asleep to descend from the ceiling and Consume the man before he even woke up. When he didn’t need to perfectly imitate someone and wasn’t particularly hungry, he tended to just Consume their heads to get the memories so he could use the rest of their bodies to fuck with Blackwatch further, but seeing as how access to PARIAH was so limited and security was so tight, he needed to mimic Randall in every way to ensure he got close enough to the kid to eliminate him.

Yeah, perhaps premeditated murder of what was essentially a toddler was a morally gross thing to do, but Alex was really doing the entire world a huge favor. With Greene gone, Gentek and Blackwatch would have to turn to the only remaining source of Redlight to get more samples to continue research, and with how dangerous PARIAH was, it was only a matter of time before some idiot fucked up and unleashed a super-zombie virus plague on the world.

Alex liked being able to roam around and do whatever the fuck he wanted, and he couldn’t very well enjoy himself if he was having to constantly dodge Blackwatch or Infected. He planned on doing a world tour after he successfully neutered the one organization on Earth that had the potential to cause him any sort of inconvenience.

So he bided his time, imitating Peter Randall with unrivaled skill. He could use the Hivemind to construct things he called ‘Personality Matrices’ that were basically mental computer programs made of memories that would tell him how the person he was imitating would react to any given situation, even if they’d never encountered that situation while they’d been alive.

They were basically algorithms for human behavior, and each one he constructed was personalized down to the smallest details. He didn’t build one for every single person he Consumed, because he didn’t always need to mimic everyone he Consumed, but he still had all the miscellaneous memories floating around in his general knowledge banks, so he could always go back and pluck out all the memories that belonged to a particular person and make one if it ever became necessary.

He could also invent new personalities on the fly by combining memories from different people, but those matrices tended to be a bit…buggy, for lack of a better word. If the memories he constructed the matrix out of came from people with wildly differing values or views, the algorithm would spit out results that made the personality seem almost bipolar, so he had to be careful with those, but they still had their uses.

That, combined with the way he could create new human faces by mashing together different sets of DNA sort of like how actual human reproduction worked, he could invent entirely new identities for himself as needed.

Yeah, Blacklight was some next-level bullshit, and Alex was loving every second of it.

* * *

It took a bit of maneuvering, but Alex, wearing his Randall disguise, was finally going to meet PARIAH. He’d been practicing using his weird energy he still didn’t have a name for, along with his Hivemind, and had figured out some very interesting ways to use them.

The two combined brilliantly into some new power he didn’t yet have a name for, but it was awesome. He could basically drive people mad just by being in close proximity to them. He could essentially pull a human mind that was still alive into his Hivemind and do a variety of interesting things from there.

He could pluck all their knowledge right out of their heads without even having to touch them! They still died though, which kinda sucked in some ways, but was super useful in other ways. Human brains apparently couldn’t comprehend all his awesomeness or something like that, and they died pretty quickly due to their brains hemorrhaging like crazy after a few minutes.

For those few minutes though? Alex was god and king over their minds. He could rip all their knowledge from them and puppet their bodies around while they could only scream internally before dying horribly.

It was pretty gruesome, but Alex couldn’t really bring himself to be that bothered. He wondered if it was his new viral instincts fucking with his previously human ways of thinking, but it didn’t really matter that much. He still had lines he wouldn’t cross and knew what his morals were, so that was enough for him. Innocents were not to be touched, but threats, people who attacked him, and people who were just general scumbags? Totally fair game.

So it was with great relish that he approached PARIAH’s cell and viciously ripped control of the guards’ bodies away from them and forced them to open the cell door before they all dropped spasming to the floor as blood leaked from just about every orifice on their faces.

PARIAH stared curiously up at him. The kid may have only looked five or six years old, but he was over thirty. Hope, Idaho had happened back in the late sixties, after all. Alex wondered what his cognitive functions were like. Redlight seemed to have this nasty habit of frying its host’s brains until they were barely more than lumps of infected flesh ruled by instinct, but you never knew.

Perhaps PARIAH had been about to say something, but Alex didn’t truly care about anything he had to say. Never bother with banter or arguments during a fight. You could always monologue at the corpse of your opponent afterwards if you absolutely had to get the last word in, after all. People could have made things so much harder for him if they followed the ‘Evil Overlord Rules,’ so he was glad that everyone was so stupid, but that didn’t make anything Alex had to do much of a challenge, unfortunately.

Alex’s Feeder Tendrils emerged from his form and shot forward, faster than lightning, and PARIAH was quickly Consumed with barely a fight from his viral side. Blacklight was basically Redlight that had the shit modified and improved out of it to the point where it didn’t much resemble the original, so of course it was easily able to overpower even the so-called ‘Perfect Organism’.

PARIAH’s genetics were rather fascinating, but contained nothing Alex wouldn’t have been able to figure out on his own using the sample he’d gotten from the boy’s deranged mother.

 **“Cahf mgepah l' sfah. Ahf' mgah'ehye mgyogor.”** _(That was so easy. What a let down.)_

Threat eliminated, the cameras shorted out due to how weird R’Lyehian was, and his ultimate goal of making sure no one could fuck with him completed, Alex dropped his disguise and snuck his way out of the base via the vents. No one ever bothered to secure the vents. Whatever—their loss, his gain. Just how he liked it.

As he traveled, he left behind a noxious trail of highly flammable and explosive chemicals. Turns out various glands found in nature could be reprogrammed to produce almost any chemical he could care to name with enough effort.

Once he reached the outside intake vents, he squeezed his boneless, malleable form around the various bits of machinery and emerged outside the top-secret facility out in the desolate deserts of Nevada. Forming a small, flame-producing organ on the end of one tendril, Alex lit the chemical trail he’d left behind.

He transformed into a crow with ice-blue eyes and effortlessly took flight, soaring off into the sunset towards greener pastures.

Behind him, a top-secret government facility burned to the ground. If one looked closely enough, one might be able to make out the shapes of otherworldly creatures in the blue-tinged flames.

But of course, nobody did.

They were all dead.


	2. The Sound of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay! another chapter, and thanks to my new quasi-schedule, i have a bunch of buffer chappies built up now! I can already tell you that imma be going a bit more off-script with the events before the avengers portion of the story, so look forward to that.
> 
> :) enjoy!

Alex made good on that promise of a world tour, visiting every location he’d never gotten the chance to visit as a human, collecting exotic DNA samples along the way. Aside from the addition of all the [PROTOTYPE] lore and characters, the world he found himself living in currently resembled his original world almost exactly.

He had fun allowing certain people to see things and spawning his own mythology and lore amongst the cryptozoologist community, along with plenty of Creepypastas, some of which he’d written himself. He was known for his vibrant ice-blue eyes, no matter what form he took, and it was usually animal forms.

He hunted down and devoured the wicked before vanishing again. He had sightings from all over the world, several of which were even true. Once he’d explored all the places he’d wanted to see on land, he turned his attention to the singular most mysterious place on planet Earth: the bottom of the sea.

Humans knew less about the ocean floor that they did about the goddamn moon. The technology for ocean exploration was just as hard to make and expensive as a rocket, but no one much cared about deep-sea exploration compared to space travel.

Thus, Alex would be one the first sapient being to truly explore the ocean deep unimpeded.

Despite the way Redlight canonically hated water, Alex had no problem with it. Blacklight held no such aversion to water, and so it was without fanfare that Alex flew out across the waves as a seagull before folding his wings and diving deep.

He hit the water with a lackluster little splash, but once he was beneath the waves, he changed his form yet again. The closest thing he had to a true form was probably his amorphous tentacled blob form covered with teeth and eyes, and given that no one was around to see him, he didn’t mind taking the form in the least.

Years ago, he decided to dub it his Shoggoth form for simplicity’s sake. His default human form was his Mercer shape.

It was surprising how well his Shoggoth body was at water travel, and Alex had a blast navigating the dark waters of the deep ocean trenches using a combination of insanely good low-light vision and vibration-based sonar. The pressure was no issue for his boneless form and he enjoyed sampling the various weird sea-life that lived at the bottom of the deepest ocean trenches. He’d been all over the world at that point, so he rarely found new or interesting DNA anymore.

The deep ocean turned out to be full of weird obscure shit he’d never even heard of, and he’d Consumed thousands of people since his rebirth, all with their own knowledge and life experience, so that was really saying something.

The incredible darkness of the Mariana Trench’s Challenger Deep made him think of the way elder gods were often associated with sleeping in the depths of the ocean. He then started wondering if it was even possible for him to sleep still. He’d only ever feigned sleep while he was disguised, he’d never actually slept since his rebirth that seemed so long ago.

* * *

He’d quite lost track of time after he’d Consumed PARIAH and gone traipsing about the world. Oh, sure, he’d Consume the occasional thug and learn what day it was then, but after he disappeared beneath the waves? He had no idea. How long had he even been down in the ocean deep? Months? Probably. Years? Maybe. He wasn’t sure. It didn’t really matter to him one way or another. He was eager to test out his sleep theory though, and it didn’t get much more quiet and peaceful than the literal bottom of the sea.

He soon located a shallow cavern and squeezed his large bulk inside. He’d grown considerably since the beginning of his little oceanic exploration expedition due to all the weird-ass fish he’d snagged as snacks during his travels, and he didn’t bother compressing his form while he was beneath the waves. He had all the space he could ever need, after all.

The cave was right at the base of some volcanic vents so the water was actually pleasantly warm where he was and filled with interesting chemicals. By ‘pleasantly warm,’ he meant near-boiling, and by ‘interesting chemicals’ he meant volcanic toxins. Alex was all but immune to extreme temperatures and conditions due to Consuming various extremophile bacterium and applying their traits to himself.

Yellowstone had been a veritable goldmine, and the faces of the tourists as Alex—then shaped like a wolf species common to the area—just waded into the boiling-hot pools of bacteria-filled water looking totally fine, had been priceless.

Just imagine a huge-ass wolf strolling through the dangerous geyser-filled minefield to take a quick dip in one of the boiling hot pools of nearby water, in broad fucking daylight, and be totally fine.

He even inconspicuously posed for some photos, his big baby blues on blatant display. The various internet forums completely lost their shit after that. It was hilarious, and Alex only added fuel to the fire with his god-tier shitposts about his true nature that weren’t actually shitposts.

Man, trolling people on the internet while telling the absolute truth was a fucking _riot._ Why bother lying when the truth sounds so unbelievable already?

So anyway, Alex was perfectly comfortable in his little cave full of toxic boiling water at the bottom of the sea. He settled in, closed his many, many eyes, and dropped off to sleep rather quickly.

* * *

Alex’s dreams consisted of wandering an endless, dark Void in his Shoggoth form, his many tentacles easily wading through the darkness to pull him along. The Void felt very familiar, almost like he’d been there before, but he’d remember being in such a place before, surely? Various enormous beings that he both could and couldn’t see watched him with some form of detached amusement and an alien version of compassion as they sang Songs that sounded unlike anything he’d ever heard before, yet at the same time felt hauntingly familiar.

He was gently nudged away from various different paths he could sense in the darkness and towards some others. He didn’t even notice when he joined in with the ethereal choir going on around him. His Song was small and rather plain compared to the Songs of any of the others, but that was okay. He’d learn how to Sing better and more complex Songs with time and more life experience behind him.

The Beings looked upon him like one might a cute toddler that was still learning how to walk. They held his metaphorical hand and helped him along, Singing soft encouragements. Normally Alex’s pride would have rankled at the comparison, but this place was different. It felt like home, almost. The beings were kind and welcoming, and Alex was soon guided down one particular path that felt different from the rest.

Something lay at the end of the path. For some reason, Alex thought of a rainbow, but one made of both Sound as well as Color. The Red Note of Reality, The Orange Note of Soul, The Yellow Note of Mind, The Green Note of Time, The Blue Note of Space, and The Purple Note of Power. Those particular pairings of descriptors and colors tickled at something in his brain, but he couldn’t quite recall why. The Notes blended together in a truly beautiful and powerful Song, as powerful as any of the other Being’s.

He left the welcoming presence of the Beings in the Void and went towards the swirling maelstrom of Colors and Sounds that awaited him at the end of the path. Destiny rang out like a collection of bells in his mind.

* * *

Alex jerked awake and flailed around for a few moments as he regained his bearings.

_What a strange dream._

He had no way of knowing how long he’d slept, and he thought it was high time he found out.

He beat his tendrils through the water like cilia and was on his way out of the deepest point on Earth. He swam and swam, idly humming a strange tune to himself through his inhuman throats. The deep swooping and haunting cries of whale song greeted him and he responded with a haunting song of his own.

His viral side seemed to be strangely obsessed with sound and vibrations, and he had no idea why. It had been that way since he awoke in the tube. His instincts compelled him to Sing, and so he did.

Alex had been a bit obsessed with music when he’d been a human, but he’d never sung before. His original human voice had sounded like a bunch of wet, angry cats in a metal barrel whenever he tried. He thought he might give singing another go though. He had an almost endless array of voices to choose from now, after all.

He ultimately decided to go with all of them. His own choir of voices, all singing in perfect harmony. He thought back to his strange dream and chose a song he felt appropriate, though he changed around a few lyrics.

He didn’t even notice that the words came out in R’Lyehian or that they were suffused with the emotions of utter peace and serenity. Alex was completely content and totally calm, and that came across in his ethereal song.

  
  


> _Hello darkness, my old friend_
> 
> _I've come to talk with you again_
> 
> _Because a vision softly creeping_
> 
> _Left its seeds while I was sleeping_
> 
> _And the vision that was planted in my brain_
> 
> _Still remains_
> 
> _Within the Sound of Silence_
> 
> _In peaceful dreams I walked astride_
> 
> _Beside streets of dead dreams and living gods_
> 
> _'Neath the halo of a thousand eyes_
> 
> _I turned my gaze to the cold and dark_
> 
> _When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of neon lights_
> 
> _That split the night_
> 
> _And touched the Sound of Silence_
> 
> _And in the naked light, I saw_
> 
> _Ten thousand beings, maybe more_
> 
> _Beings talking without speaking_
> 
> _Beings hearing without listening_
> 
> _Beings writing Songs that all voices Sang_
> 
> _And everyone dared_
> 
> _Disturb the Sound of Silence_
> 
> _“Child”, said They, “You do not know_
> 
> _Silence like a cancer grows._
> 
> _Hear Our words that we might teach you_
> 
> _Take Our arms that we might reach you!”_
> 
> _And Their words, like calling raindrops fell_
> 
> _And echoed_
> 
> _In the wells of Singing Silence_
> 
> _And the humans bowed and prayed_
> 
> _To those neon gods They made_
> 
> _And the Stones flashed out their warning_
> 
> _In the words that they were forming_
> 
> _And the Stones said, "The words of the prophets are written on the mortuary walls_
> 
> _And tenement halls"_
> 
> _And Sang loud in the Sound of Silence_

  
  


He sang out in the voices of a thousand dead men and women, voices swooping and swelling in time with the words that flowed naturally from his mind as he swam towards the surface.

* * *

A scant few miles away, just outside of Alex’s sensory range, a medium-sized boat contained marine biologists that trembled as tears cascaded down their faces. Their recording device began smoking and spitting sparks, but they barely noticed. Whatever the hell their microphone had picked up on was like nothing else they’d ever heard. Almost like whale song and yet so utterly, completely alien, and they had no idea what they had encountered down in the deep. The emotions were profound though.

They looked at each other. No one would ever believe them. One of their number lunged for a notepad and began writing down what they could understand of the lyrics. Some things didn’t translate well from whatever alien language that was, but they got the gist. Something about walking in the dark and silence and singing without making sound. Something about light and dark and neon stones and dark gods and dead dreams.

They all silently agreed to dump their sparking recording device in the ocean and write it off as lost due to unexpected turbulence and equipment failure when their bosses inevitably asked why they failed to return with any data on the mating and migratory songs of blue whales.

Their speaker system worked just fine, but whatever had responded to the recorded sound of whale song was definitely not a whale. Not a chance in hell. They knew that deep in their souls.

That night, they dreamed of rainbows that sang in a thousand voices, and gentle hands holding them steady in the dark. It was the most peaceful sleep any of them remembered getting.

* * *

Alex finally approached the rocky shore and eagerly hauled his large Shoggoth form onto the beach without thinking to check for anyone first. He’d been hopelessly lost beneath the waves. He didn’t know how long he might’ve been swimming in circles, but he had a feeling he’d somehow managed to drag his sorry hide all over the globe without coming close enough to sense land, somehow.

His internal compass was shot to all hell after he’d woken up. None of the electromagnetic patterns of the Earth matched up with what they were when he went to sleep.

Oh sure, they were similar, but just off enough that it confused his senses and got him lost as fuck.

So excuse him if he was a little bit pissy. His many large eyes spotted a man staring slack-jawed at his horrifying eldritch form. The rubber-coated overalls he was wearing and the presence of a fishing rod clutched in a white-knuckled grip told Alex everything he needed to know about why the man was standing hip-deep in the freezing cold waters.

 **“Ymg' ahagl, ahagl ah fahf agl?”** _(You there, where is this place?)_

Alex wasn’t worried about the man not understanding him, because R’Lyehian seemed weirdly universal in that everyone could understand it, at least to a degree. Fine details and nuances often seemed to get lost in translation, but the general message was usually understood. The same could not be said of written R’Lyehian, though.

“W-wut?” The man stuttered in terror, eyes huge as he gazed up at Alex’s enormous form. He was currently larger than a bus, so the reaction was understandable. Regardless, Alex grew frustrated and rolled all his eyes as he repeated his question.

He refused to Consume the man and find out that way. He’d never wronged Alex and probably had a family waiting for him somewhere.

 **“Ahagl Y' ah? Y' ah mgepr'luh.”** _(Where am I? I am lost.)_

“Ah, um, y-you’re o-on Earth…?” The man stuttered.

Alex rolled all his eyes harder and glared a bit at the man.

 **“Y' kadishtu cahf, ymg' legeth'drn! Ahagl llll Shugg ehye’em? Ahf' shug?”** _(I know that, you idiot! Where on Earth specifically? What country?)_

“T-the U-united States o-of America! R-rockwell, Maine!” The man shouted out, trembling in fear.

_Maine, huh? Interesting. Did I seriously manage to travel around the entire world without finding land first? That’s some fucking bullshit, but whatever._

**“Ng ahf' y'or'nah h' ah?”** _(And what year is it?)_ Alex asked. He had no idea how long he’d been sleeping or traveling. It had been late 2011 when he’d disappeared beneath the waves.

“Oh, um…it’s 1992,” The man said, looking apprehensive.

Alex started and stared at the man intently. His heartbeat was rabbiting in his chest, but the slight stutter in the pattern that indicated lying wasn’t there. The man really thought it was 1992, and Alex was inclined to believe him.

_What the fuck?! That doesn’t make any sense! I’m awesome and have access to bullshit powers, but last I checked, even I couldn’t travel through time! …I should go gather some intel. White-tailed deer are native to Maine, right?_

Alex turned his attention back to the terrified man, and now he felt a bit bad for scaring him so much. He’d just been sitting there, minding his own damn business before Alex had just appeared and scared the piss out of him.

 **“Y' zgar’th llll mgvulgt ymg'. Y' mgep mgepah mgepr'luh llll og ehyeog yar, ng ymg' mgep mgephafh ya ph'nglui ya yar ot r’gotha. Ehyeeog r’mgvulgtlagln l' ymg' ng ymg' fa’mh. Vulgt’epgoka shuggoth.”** _(I apologize for scaring you. I have been lost for a very long time, and you have helped me in my time of need. Many blessings upon you and your kin. Farewell, human.)_

Alex compressed his enormous bulk and shifted into the form of a White-tailed deer stag with an enormous rack of antlers and bright ice-blue eyes, and trotted off into the undergrowth to go learn about this strange new world he found himself in.

* * *

Mr. Hogarth immediately packed up his gear and raced home to hold his family tight. Later that week during a routine somber hospital visit, the Hogarth family patriarch would discover that his wife’s cancer had inexplicably vanished without a trace. He would think back to unknowable horror he’d accidentally fished from the sea and its words, and send his silent thanks. He hung up his rifle next to his fishing rod and never hunted deer again.

He became a frequent visitor at the local pub, but he could only rarely bring himself to order anything alcoholic. However, if plied with enough cheap, greasy pub food and expensive whisky by someone else, he’d ramble on about that one time he fished an elder god out of the sea and how it turned into a deer and trotted off, and that’s why he refused to go anywhere near the ocean, eat fish, or hunt deer ever again. Most people thought him to be crazy or just talking nonsense while he was drunk off his ass, but stories like that had a strange way of getting around to the weirdest places.

* * *

Considering all the weird shit he’d experienced in his life, including encountering literal aliens and fighting over a cosmic space cube of infinite power, Nicholas J. Fury would look back on that old fisherman’s tale he’d heard a few years ago while on an unrelated mission, and no longer completely dismiss the story as the ramblings of a crazy man.

Once SHIELD started getting occasional reports of unexplainable happenings or strange sightings involving a variety of animals, all with vibrant ice-blue eyes, Fury would begin to believe that old fisherman’s tale.

He returned to Rockwell, Maine years later and spent way too much money on fancy whiskey getting the full story out of the man.

When he returned to base, a small file was created on the unknown creature, probable extraterrestrial, Codename: Bright-Eyes.

* * *

Since that fateful day he’d crawled from the sea, Alex had learned much. He figured that he’d likely somehow traveled through time and space by sleeping _that hard,_ and that the Earth he found himself residing on was not the same one he’d fallen asleep in. He blamed the weird dream/vision/whateverthefuck he’d had on the whole phenomenon, and resolved to never sleep, lest he end up in a new universe _again._

Whereas before he’d been in the [PROTOTYPE] Universe, or some version of it at least, he now appeared to be in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, which was decidedly a downgrade in his opinion.

When he’d been reborn, the only threats to his person had been Blackwatch, Gentek, Elizabeth Greene, and PARIAH, who were all rather easily taken care of. After they’d been dealt with, Alex had never run into any significant trouble.

Here, he had to worry about SHIELD, HYDRA, and a big ugly grape with a nutsack chin who simped for Lady Death, and probably a few dozen or so more minor threats he was likely forgetting about.

Alex pouted. He didn’t want any of the responsibility or scrutiny that being a hero came with, but he also liked being alive. If he sat on his ass and did nothing, he had a 50/50 chance of getting Snapped out of existence, which was absolutely unacceptable, so that left him the option of getting off his eldritch ass and doing something about it.

Problem was, he was in a sort of weird limbo-space, timeline-wise. The events of Captain Marvel had not happened quite yet, due to the bulk of the movie taking place during 1995. That left him some time to fuck around and find out, as it were.

He debated getting involved in the whole Captain Marvel debacle, but ultimately decided against it. As hilarious as it would be to masquerade as Goose the Flerken, he didn’t want to risk totally fucking up the future by accident. Not yet at least. He needed certain events to happen so he could line everything up correctly.

If he played his cards right, he could get his tentacles on two Infinity Stones in one fell swoop and know exactly where the others were. He _needed_ to get the Time Stone though, since if Thanos got that one, he could reverse time and un-destroy any of the other Stones. Alex would rather not destroy _any_ of them, but he totally would if it meant keeping half the universe alive.

So, Thanos could absolutely not get his filthy purple mitts on the Time Stone, no matter what. Alex just needed to figure out how to collect all the Stones first and obliterate the asshole and his genocidal armies before he managed to wipe out half of all life in the name of getting his senpai to notice him.

He idly wondered what Unlimited Power™ would even feel like, but it wouldn’t matter. He’d use the Stones to blast Thanos out of existence and then get rid of the things somehow. He didn’t particularly want to destroy them, since that seemed like a terrible idea. What if their destruction caused the universe to unravel? Something in whatever counted as his gut told him the continued existence of the Stones was Important, and he’d learned to trust his eldritch Gut Feelings. They had the strangest tendency to be right on the money.

He knew everything worked out just fine in the movies, but a lot of the shit in the MCU didn’t line up quite right or contradicted itself, especially in the last few movies, so for all he knew, using the Stones to destroy the Stones would cause the universe to collapse in on itself without the Stones there to channel and direct all the cosmic forces of the universe.

He wasn’t particularly worried about using them all at once, since any of the damage they inflicted on his body could be healed over. None of the people who used the Infinity Gauntlet in the movies had regeneration, much less regeneration as absolutely bullshit as Alex’s.

Since figuring out he was in the MCU, Alex had taken to leaving caches of biomass all over the planet. After he amassed enough, well, _mass,_ he’d split off a large chunk of himself and burrow deep beneath the surface of the Earth with it before it formed an insanely durable shell and went dormant, passively feeding off the geothermal energy of the planet to sustain itself.

It was all still part of him, but without any sensory organs, he maintained only the barest awareness of each of his biomass caches, just enough to know where they all were and sense if they ever got moved or messed with.

Such a thing seemed highly unlikely, considering his caches were buried much deeper than even the Kola Superdeep Borehole had ever managed to go. He also left many caches dotted around the bottom of the seas disguised as large rocks, so his survival was all but assured, as long as he didn’t get Snapped out of existence or let the planet get eaten by Ego.

He wondered if the Snap would actually kill him though, or if it would just cause half of his cells to vanish. He was leaning toward the latter, but he had no concrete proof, and it wasn’t something he wanted to risk.

As long as some of his mass remained, even if his main body was destroyed, he’d survive no problem. Earth would have to be completely vaporized in order to totally kill him now, so the only real threats to his existence were Ego and Thanos.

He was already on his way to Missouri to take care of Ego’s weirdo Amoeba Flower of Doom, and after that he’d only have to worry about the Ultimate Simp.

* * *

Alex was severely disappointed. Turns out Celestials were beings made of pure energy except for their brains, and Alex got almost nothing from Consuming Ego’s weird planet-eating flower. He got some interesting genetic info from the flower, but not much he could make sense of or use without access to the mysterious ‘Light’ energy Ego and Peter Quill had. The DNA had several large gaps in its sequencing, likely filled by the addition of the ‘Light’ power. On the bright side, he could totally survive in the vacuum of space and feed off of radiation and other energy sources like electricity now, but that was basically it.

His own eldritch energies were no help either. He was having a hellish time getting them to work with him; they only seemed to want to do specific things, and when he tried to do new stuff, it felt like his energies were…stuck, for lack of a better word. They didn’t want to move properly, and they seemed to stretch weirdly before snapping back into place, like a person who walked unexpectedly through a doorframe covered in clear cellophane, almost like something was holding them back.

_Oh well, one threat to Earth eliminated, only a few dozen more to go._

* * *

He planned to hide out in Rocinha, Rio de Janeiro in Brazil in order to meet up with one Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. Alex’s knowledge of the MCU timeline and recon he’d performed placed the man in the city sometime around 2007-2008 so all he had to do was find the bottling factory the man would eventually work at and then wait.

He’d disguise himself as an adorable stray dog and weasel his way into Bruce’s life as his emotional support animal that never left his side. He could protect the man from Thaddeus Ross and his soldiers, mainly Emil Blonsky, and perhaps reveal himself to Bruce when the time was right.

Eventually, Bruce would end up getting tracked down by SHIELD and asked to find the Tesseract, and then Alex would really be cooking with gas. While the Battle of New York had to happen for people to take him seriously about Thanos, nothing said he couldn’t help reduce casualties and paint himself in the best light possible while kicking Chitauri ass and defending Earth.

He needed to gather allies and goodwill with the public so that the government didn’t try to nuke his ass out of existence when they inevitably learned what he was truly capable of.

Not that such a thing would work, mind you, but it was the principle of the thing.

After New York though, he could kick canon to the curb, because he was going to drive that goddamn crazy train right off the rails. Canon after the first Avengers movie fucking sucked and Alex wouldn’t be sad to see it go. Steve Rogers could go fuck himself with a sandpaper dildo, because Alex was making 10,000% sure the man never left Tony Stark for dead in motherfucking Siberia. Alex was Team Iron Man all the way.

Rogers was such an absolute bastard in Alex’s opinion. Even from the first movie, he just rubbed Alex the complete wrong way. The man disobeyed direct orders, endangered Howard and Peggy to get them to fly him over enemy lines to go on a completely unsanctioned rescue mission that only turned out well by sheer dumb luck, and the man hadn’t even been punished for it!

Everyone bought into the Captain America hype, including Rogers himself, and the man regularly flouted the rules and regulations and got rewarded for it. Then he decided to go down ‘heroically’ in the Valkyrie when he could have easily escaped or at least tried to do an emergency crash landing on the ice shelf.

Man didn’t even complete his mission of destroying HYDRA, either. Yeah, the Red Skull was dead, but HYDRA’s whole thing was that two more heads would rise up if one got cut off, so he really should have made sure the whole organization got dismantled from the ground up before he decided to throw himself into the ocean so he could die a martyr.

Maybe then hundreds of innocent undercover SHIELD agents wouldn’t have gotten killed when he and Romanoff decided to just dump all of SHIELDRA’s files online without making sure any potentially delicate info other than his precious Bucky’s existence was filtered out.

Later, the man let an _actual, literal HYDRA agent onto the team,_ despite the fact that she had mind-raped them all and previously been allied with the murder-bot she forced Tony to create by inducing horrible PTSD flashbacks in the poor man. Then he blamed Tony as the sole creator for the creation of said murder-bot, despite Bruce being heavily involved in the project as well, and had done nothing as Thor choked his supposed friend and teammate _right the fuck in front of everyone._

What the actual, genuine, literal _fuck_ had the writers been smoking when they came up with that absolute mountain of horseshit? Alex wanted to know so he could try some, ‘cause it sounded like some seriously good shit. 

And don’t even get him started on the whole Maximoff clusterfuck. God what a shitshow.

But back to the good Captain. The man later lied right to Tony’s face, _for literal years,_ so he could continue using the man’s money and resources to search for his precious brainwashed friend, and then he just decided that the opinions of 117 sovereign nations didn’t matter, _including America’s,_ because he refused to be made to take responsibility for his continuous fuckups and metric asstons of collateral damage.

And the rotten cherry on top of the steaming shit-sandwich was when he and his BFF Bucky beat Tony—an angry, grieving man who’d _just watched his parents get fucking beaten to death by the man who was literally standing right next to him,_ within an inch of his life. Rogers slammed his vibranium shield into the chest of a man with an artificial sternum and loads of previous heart-trauma, and then _fucking left him for dead in an abandoned HYDRA bunker in motherfucking Siberia._

Tony clearly wasn’t even trying to kill either of them, he was just angry and grieving and the man who’d _strangled his mom was standing right the fuck behind him._ How the fuck was Rogers anticipating Tony to take the news? ‘Oh golly gee, I can clearly see your bestest-bud was totally brainwashed by HYDRA, we’re all good! Oh you knew and didn’t tell me my parents were murdered, despite using my money and resources for years? That’s fine, we’re all friends, right?’ _Not._

The suit could withstand a direct hit from a tank shell and came equipped with a laser that could cut through just about anything and a fuckton of missiles. If Tony wanted either of them dead, they’d be fucking smeared across half of Siberia before they could wind up a punch.

So Steve Rogers could fuck right off and go ingest an entire satchel of richards. Alex hoped he choked to death on them. It would save everyone a load of trouble and heartache in the long run. He couldn’t wait for the confrontation on the Helicarrier, because _whoo-boy,_ did Alex have some piping-hot tea to spill all over Steve Rogers’s stupid blond head.

He couldn’t mention any of the deeds Steve Rogers had yet to commit, but he planned to open everyone’s eyes to what a big, shiny lie the whole Captain America legend was.

* * *

This time, Alex made sure he knew _exactly_ where he was going as he swam through the ocean towards his destination. It was hell re-memorizing the electromagnetic fields of his new home, but he refused to get lost like a shmuck again.

While it was still a few years too early for Bruce to be in Rocinha, he wanted to make absolutely sure he didn’t miss his golden opportunity. Bruce was still in that ‘I have to push everyone away for their own safety’ sort of mindset, and Alex planned to gleefully stomp all over that toxic line of thinking.

He liked Bruce as a character, and suspected he’d like the real man even more once Alex drew him out of his shell. Bruce Banner would learn to love himself, green and all, come hell or high water. Alex would be the best emotional support animal the world had ever seen, and later once he’d spilled some of the beans, he’d be the best, most supportive friend ever.

Alex had never really had real friends before, and he was determined to do it right. He was fiercely protective over anything he considered his, even people, and he’d defend his friends and family to the ends of the Earth. He’d loved his family fiercely, and had been absolutely gutted by their passing. Since he no longer had blood family, he’d just find a new one. He and Bruce and Tony could be a team, a family. A real one, where they cared about each other and had each other’s backs and didn’t stab them with vibranium shields.

Alex could be a bit of a mother-hen, and both geniuses were canonically terrible at taking care of themselves. That was okay though, because that was what Alex would be there for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so while i changed a few lyrics, the original song is called 'Sound of Silence' and was originally written by Simon & Garfunkel, but it's better known for its rock re-interpretation by Disturbed, one of my favorite bands of all time. seriously, go listen to Disturbed's version, it's 1000% better than the OG. i legit teared up a little it was so beautiful, but then i cry like a bitch at the drop of a hat, so... 
> 
> anyway, alex schemes and trolls people on the internet and just generally fucks around for a while. and also lays out all the reasons why steve rogers sucks and is a terrible person. you do not have to agree with my assessment, but any comments involving rabid butthurt Cap stans might be deleted depending on the content of the comment and also how charitable i'm feeling at the moment, so. if you are calm and polite, i won't delete your comment, because everyone is entitled to their opinion, so just don't be an asshole and you can stay. :)
> 
> seriously, everything is right there in the tags. don't like, don't read. i'll try to avoid outright bashing, but i just don't like steve as a character, and that can and will come across in my writing. so if you can't handle that, there is this convenient thing called a back button that is totally free to use.


	3. A Friend in Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> b/c im a lying liar who fucking lies, here's the next chappie, several days early. i have a bunch of buffer, so i figured 'what the hell, might as well' so here ya go! :)
> 
> PLZ dont be afraid to comment and give me feedback, i live off of comments and read every single one of them, even if i don't reply to them all. i love reading what people think and encourage everyone to leave comments on stories they like, even if its something simple like 'love the story, excited for more'

Alex trotted down familiar streets in the shape of an ambiguous Australian Shepherd mix. His favorite dog form was a little bigger than was normal for purebreds of the breed and featured a Blue Merle color pattern with a long curly tail and ears that stood up straight like a spitz breed. The section of white fur on his neck and chest was a little fluffier than the rest of him, almost giving the appearance of a furry cravat.

One of the reasons he’d chosen an Australian Shepherd as a base for the form was the prevalence of gorgeous blue eyes in the breed. They were sometimes known as ‘ghost eyes’ and wouldn’t you know it, but Alex’s preferred eye color matched that exactly. He’d decided on keeping his eye color the same no matter what form he was in as a means to throw anyone off in terms of his true abilities.

He could absolutely change his eye color easier than breathing, but if he always kept a recognizable trait no matter his shape, anyone spying on him would think it was something he couldn’t change about himself.

Then, if things ever went super pear-shaped, he could just do a complete shift and get away with no one the wiser. He thought his plan was working, because he’d noticed a few covert SHIELD feelers, as well as a few from less palatable organizations _(*cough* HYDRA *cough*)._

While Alex was stealthy as fuck, he’d allowed certain people to see some things in order to get on SHIELD’s radar. Let them think they knew everything about him, so they’d become comfortable and not question his presence or be as wary when he decided to insert himself in the plot. Alex was downplaying his abilities to an extreme degree so that he could keep skills in reserve that they wouldn’t be expecting.

Then, if they ever tried anything funny, he could whip out his hidden arsenal, and they’d all be completely fucked.

Currently, Alex was known as the ‘Blue-Eyed Beast’ to certain members of the Rocinha community, and he was seen as a sort of local folk legend or cryptid. Only a few people genuinely believed in his existence, and those were usually the people he’d saved from getting raped or mugged or what-have-you. People eventually began to notice that the local criminals tended to disappear after spotting a strange blue-eyed animal, usually a dog or crow, watching them from the shadows.

He ate well in Rocinha and silently dismantled the gangs and drug rings—and on one horribly notable occasion, a child pornography ring—in his immediate area. Much like the gangs all had tags that they used to mark territory, so did Alex. He’d adopted a symbol that had been synonymous with the one of the coolest and most badass video game characters of all time: the Doomslayer.

The Mark of the Unchained Predator was his now, seeing as how the DOOM franchise didn’t exist in the MCU, interestingly enough. Much like written R’Lyehian, he could infuse the mark with different emotions, likely because he sort of thought of the symbol as his name in R’Lyehian. It was his mark, his symbol, and it represented him. People who fucked with shit that literally had his name on it were in for a nasty surprise.

He usually chose to infuse his mark with a special combination of emotions and energy that made the viewer feel like they were being watched if they were up to no good. Innocents would look upon it and feel nothing, but people who acted against him would feel fear when they saw it.

The smell of decaying blood and the sound of tearing flesh would sit at the back of their mind, and they would know that they were trespassing on the turf of something infinitely more powerful than them.

Unsurprisingly, it was a very effective asshole deterrent.

Alex found himself rather liking the time he spent in Rocinha, but he had an entire universe to save, and he couldn’t very well do that if he stayed tied down in a Brazilian slum the whole time.

* * *

Alex in his dog form lounged atop a series of ramshackle apartment buildings like a lion overseeing his kingdom. From here, he had a perfect view of the bottling plant Bruce would one day work at. He thought it might be getting close to the time when Bruce would be arriving, and he wanted to be ready.

Sure enough, he spotted the bedraggled-looking man leaving the factory one day, and Alex smiled in a very un-doglike way. Though dogs had sharp teeth, they usually didn’t have so many, nor were they sharp enough to cut glass.

Alex stood, shook his gloriously soft fur coat out, and leapt into the alleyway on the side of the building. He fell more than two dozen feet, but he landed with only the softest thump and was no worse for wear.

His ability to flip physics the bird never got old, and he enjoyed flying high above the city as a crow. They were often thought to be omens of misfortune, death, and disease, and Alex found all of those things to be very fitting.

He cheekily winked at the child that was staring open-mouthed at his dog form from the window of one of the apartments before trotting off.

He stalked along darkened alleys and tracked his target with inhuman precision. Hunting Pulse was an interesting technique, and one Alex used extensively while hunting down specific targets in such a crowded city, not that he really even had to use his Hunting Pulse to track Bruce though. 

Compared to the random almost grey-seeming masses surrounding him, the man practically had a neon sign above his head screaming his location to Alex’s more esoteric senses.

He found it extremely interesting that Bruce appeared to possess the same type of energy that he did, although it was an order of magnitude weaker than his own. It clung to the man like a veil of angry static, prickly and unapproachable. He observed it lashing out in what appeared to be anger of a sort, or perhaps fear. It seemed almost hostile to Bruce himself, arcing and hooking into and out of him in various places.

It looked rather painful if he was being honest, but Bruce didn’t seem to give any indication that he felt anything.

Alex’s own energies were more like a cloak of calm liquid shadow that emanated from him. It leapt to his beck and call, but hated to go far from its master, snapping back into place when it got too far away, except when he channeled little pieces of it into his written R’Lyehian. That was automatic by this point, and he thought it was probably a mandatory part of the language. 

It was a bit like the symbolic languages in that a single symbol had many meanings, except instead of using context to figure out what they meant, the energies imprinted into the symbol differentiated it.

Alex resolved to investigate Bruce’s weirdo hostile energy-field later.

He effortlessly tracked his target to a side alley, and found that Bruce was currently living in a pathetic looking lean-to near the back of the alley.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen people living in alleys, Rocinha was a slum after all, but there was something wrong about seeing a man who had seven PhDs struggle just to survive.

The only reason Bruce was in that situation was because he was being hunted down like a rabid animal. Alex silently resolved to kill Ross in the most painful way that was available when the opportunity arose.

In the meantime though, Alex had a future friend in need.

He debated over the best ways to help the man without seeming too overt about it. If Bruce suspected he had anything to do with the government, he was likely to bolt.

Alex brainstormed different ideas for a short time before finally deciding. He didn’t want Bruce to assume he was with the military, so he’d just have to do something so completely outside their typical M.O. that Bruce wouldn’t even think to associate the two.

* * *

When Bruce awoke the next morning, he immediately knew something was wrong. There was a faint smell in the air—barely detectable, even to his gamma-enhanced senses. The smell reminded him of space, interestingly enough. Overall, it smelled faintly of iron and decay, with an undertone that he could only identify as death, along with a bit of ozone. It should have been an unsettling smell, but for some reason it wasn’t.

In fact, he felt unusually calm for his current situation. For once, the frothing sea of green in the back of his mind seemed to have calmed a little, and it was no longer battering against the mental dam that held it all back nearly as strongly as it normally did. To be honest, it felt more like a gentle sort of pawing rather than the frantic clawing it usually was. It was very strange, and Bruce was wary about the change, but for now he just enjoyed the odd respite.

Bruce emerged from his lackluster shelter and stopped short. There was a dog napping across the entrance to his lean-to. It looked like some kind of Australian Shepherd mix. The dog opened vibrant ice-blue eyes and immediately began showering him with slobbery dog kisses.

“Ack, no, stop!” Bruce shouted, gently shoving the dog off of him. Bruce quickly stood up to his full height to avoid more licking. The dog just stared up at him with intensely ice-blue eyes. Its tail was wagging a mile a minute and it just looked so happy to see him that it made something in his chest constrict. Nobody had looked at him like that in literal years.

Bruce shook the thought off. There was a good reason nobody looked at him like that. A very big, very green, very angry reason.

“Go on, shoo, I don’t have any food for you,” Bruce sighed, making little motions with his hands as if to ward the dog off. The dog apparently took that as an invitation to ask for pets as it shoved its head underneath his hands.

Bruce sighed tiredly, “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?”

The dog just made a low ‘boof’ sort of noise as if in agreement, and Bruce was surprised at the deep pitch. The dog wasn’t _that_ large and looked like it was a mix with a spitz breed, and those weren’t known for particularly deep barks, and neither were Australian Shepherds. The dog sounded more like a Mastiff or a Great Dane or maybe a St. Bernard.

The dog’s intimidating bark was completely at odds with its adorable, harmless-looking appearance though, and Bruce smiled bitterly at the irony. The dog reminded him of himself in a way. It looked totally harmless but beneath its exterior it hid something more. Something dangerous. Some gut feeling told him there was something more to this dog, but he shook the odd feeling off. It was just a dog. What else could it be?

Bruce spent some time running his fingers through its surprisingly clean and shockingly soft fur and stroking its velvety ears. Usually strays were filthy and covered in fleas, but this one seemed immaculately clean. Maybe it wasn’t a stray after all?

The dog had no collar though, and usually people would at least drape a piece of rope or maybe a chain of some kind around its neck to indicate it wasn’t a stray, but this dog had nothing on it to signify ownership.

Bruce patted the thing on the head one last time and headed off to work, resolutely ignoring the rumbling of his stomach. Maybe if he was lucky, he could ask for an advance on his first payment so he could get some food soon…

He was oblivious to the way a blue-eyed crow followed him through the sky just far enough away to remain unnoticed.

* * *

Their first interaction seemed to go well, and Alex noted the way Bruce’s strange energy field seemed to react to his. Mainly, his own seemed to sort of smooth Bruce’s out and…calm it down, for lack of a better term. It wasn’t nearly as prickly or jumpy, instead seeming more like Alex’s own, where it ebbed and flowed, albeit much less gracefully than his own. It still seemed to dig into the man himself, but it no longer felt as agitated.

He watched Bruce head off to work, and he formulated a plan on how to help the man out without it being traced back to him. He ultimately decided on inconspicuously dropping some money from his internally-held stash just before the man turned into his little alleyway to go home.

Alex held all kinds of useful things inside his form, mainly money, but a few other useful things as well, such as fake IDs and passports. He had to give SHIELDRA _something_ to go off of after all. They weren’t as good as they liked to think they were.

Oddly enough, whatever he held inside his body actually seemed to get shoved into some kind of pocket dimension, considering he could take on the form of things much smaller than the volume of things he had tucked away with no issues.

Alex ultimately decided on dropping money because that way it would look like someone had just dropped it accidentally and it was a coincidence that Bruce had stumbled across it.

It couldn’t be anything too big, but the local equivalent to a forty dollar bill would be a start. In the meantime, he patrolled his territory and kept his Hunting Pulse trained on Bruce so he could check up on him occasionally. Through his Hunting Pulse, he got all kinds of interesting data, like the target’s general state of being, including heart rate and if they were otherwise injured.

While he could sense Bruce’s energy field, he had to be a lot closer to do that with any kind of accuracy. He could always get a general direction though, now that he knew what to look for.

Alex had no idea how his Hunting Pulse technique actually worked, but he guessed it had something to do with his weird energies combined with vibrations or sound waves and frequency resonance. He wondered if his Pulses were detectible with the right equipment, or if it was just more magical elder god BS that would forever remain unexplained.

He was one of those people that liked knowing how shit worked, but he was also capable of accepting that some stuff defied explanation. Like the Infinity Stones, or Loki’s magic powers. Or his own existence.

Alex huffed in amusement and continued stalking the oblivious form of a thug that was apparently too stupid to get the memo that criminals tended to disappear if they tried anything on his turf.

* * *

Alex was having probably too much fun toying with his latest victim if he was being honest with himself. He caught up to the thug attempting to shake someone down, but the thug had seen Alex in an inconspicuous and utterly forgettable dog form standing at the end of the alleyway, caught sight of his inhumanly glowing blue eyes, and had made his first smart decision when he tried to run away.

Alex had fun stalking him all over the city, letting him think he’d gotten away, and then reappearing to scare the man into starting the whole game of cat and mouse over again.

Eventually the man grew too tired to keep running and Alex cornered him in a forgotten little dead-end alley of the city. Rocinha seemed to have an awful lot of convenient alleyways.

The man clearly knew the local legends and brandished a shoddy-looking gun in one shaking hand. He stuttered out demands to stay away in Portuguese that Alex completely ignored as he prowled closer, ever so slowly.

The man lost his nerve and opened fire, six shots impacting Alex’s dog-shaped body and doing absolutely jack-shit other than making his form jerk a little at the impacts. The little ‘plink, plink’ sounds of the bullets being pushed out of his form and hitting the pavement were deafening in the quiet of the alley.

The man dropped to his knees and begged for mercy, explaining that he was just trying to get by and that he wasn’t planning on hurting the woman. His sob story sounded rather believable, except for the fact that Alex could hear the way his heartbeat jumped a bit in time with the lies, and that he had eaten an acquaintance of the man’s about a week ago and knew for a fact that the man was a horrible excuse of a human being.

Alex didn’t bother using the man’s name, even in his head. You don’t name your food, after all.

The man’s screams had only echoed in the alley for a second or two before they abruptly cut off.

* * *

Bruce sighed in contentment as he tucked into his meal. He had been so hungry and had thanked whatever few lucky stars he had left that he’d stumbled across an apparently discarded or forgotten Brazilian Real note worth fifty Reals, or a little less than forty US Dollars, if Bruce’s mental math was right.

The note was crumpled and a bit dirty, but otherwise perfectly usable, and Bruce had used it to purchase dinner and still had some left over. When he came back to his temporary abode, Bruce found the same distinctive stray dog waiting for him. Again, it was lounging in front of his shelter, but this time it was gnawing on some kind of thin bone it had found from God knows where.

Perhaps the dog had scavenged it out of a butcher’s garbage pile? Something about the shape of the bone tickled at his brain, but he didn’t have much time to ponder it, as the dog thought the bone was much less attention-grabbing than Bruce himself, and it totally abandoned the bone to run up to him before butting its head into his hands, clearly asking for skritchies.

Bruce huffed amusedly and began dispensing skritchies. Something in him almost seemed to unclench or relax in the dog’s presence, though he had no idea what. He continued petting the animal, who was clearly enjoying the treatment too. The dog’s fur was ridiculously soft and warm, and Bruce enjoyed the way it carded through his fingers cleanly without catching on tangles.

Someone had to own the dog; it was too well-groomed to be a stray.

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have a family somewhere to be getting back to?” He murmured, not really wanting the dog to leave.

The dog just ‘boof’ed again in response in its weirdly deep dog-voice and rubbed its face against his legs like a cat would.

“You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” He said absentmindedly.

The dog softly ‘boof’ed again, many times in a row, and the sound reminded Bruce of the way a person would chuckle under their breath.

Bruce shook the odd thought off and retreated into his little shelter to sleep. If he worked hard and showed the plant manager all of his eclectically acquired handyman skills, he might be able to afford a real roof over his head soon.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a warm, furry body squeezing its way into the shelter to curl up next to him.

He just sighed a little in mild aggravation and rolled over. The dog curled up against his back, solid in a way that spoke of hidden strength. Bruce sighed again and closed his eyes.

Sleep came to him much easier than it normally did, and he dreamed of walking in an endless dark expanse, a calm, friendly presence by his side the entire time. Though he could not see anything, he thought of inhumanly intelligent ice-blue eyes that held surprising warmth in their gaze.

* * *

It had been several months since Bruce had last had an episode, and he was eagerly communicating with ‘Mr. Blue’ for what felt like the millionth time. He was extremely apprehensive about sending his blood through the mail, but if he wanted to cure himself, this might be his only hope.

He looked over at his roommate and smiled in fondness.

His loyal companion he’d eventually named Puppy sat by his side and whined at the sight of the needle. For whatever reason, his furry friend seemed to hate needles. Bruce often wondered if it had anything to do with Puppy’s past as a lab experiment.

Oh, he had no real proof of anything, but he strongly suspected Puppy had been used in some kind of illegal and unethical animal experimentation in the past.

Puppy was smart. Too smart. If he was an ordinary animal, Bruce would eat his left shoe. He wondered if Puppy had maybe been involved in some kind of illegal cosmetics testing that had the unexpected side effect of making him smarter.

His fur was always silky-smooth and just about the softest thing Bruce had ever had the pleasure of burying his fingers in, and the fur didn’t ever seem to get dirty or shed at all. Bruce was thankful he didn’t have to worry about dog hair getting in his _everything,_ but it raised some serious questions.

Even hypo-allergenic dogs shed a little, but Bruce hadn’t seen so much as a single dog hair anywhere, and Puppy had been living with him for almost five whole months now. All living things that had hair or fur shed the dead hairs at some point, so his dog’s absolute lack of shedding was mildly concerning—and highly strange.

Bruce spoke softly as he drew his own blood. His muttering and rambling narration was a habit he’d picked up once he realized that Puppy was a hell of a lot smarter than he seemed to be at first glance. He often wondered if Puppy could actually understand him, and what his dog would think of his big, green medical condition.

As for the blood draw, his dog buried his head into Bruce’s side and refused to look at the procedure in progress.

Puppy was weirdly squeamish about the strangest things.

Dry dog food, for instance, was met with derision and scorn, but was eaten with otherwise little fuss, but he couldn’t seem to stand the smell of wet dog food and adamantly refused to go anywhere near the stuff, practically growling at it from across the room.

Bruce thought it might have maybe been the cold or the moisture that Puppy hated, but people food, no matter its state of relative moistness or temperature, was much better received, and Bruce eventually just started making a smaller second portion for his furry friend. Puppy always licked both the plates clean afterward, which made washing them off in his tiny sink much easier since he didn’t have to scrub at any leftover food bits.

After he’d packaged up his vial of blood, Bruce turned on the small, battered radio he’d bought at a pawn shop and music soon filled the small space. Puppy’s tail swayed and wagged in time with the melody like a metronome and he smiled at his pet’s odd behavior.

Along with his strange aversion to needles and certain types of food, Puppy absolutely _loved_ music of almost any kind. There were certain types he seemed to hate, mostly rap and country for whatever reason, but that was okay, since Bruce didn’t care for the often very vulgar lyrics found in rap, and he was ambivalent about country music at best.

Puppy tended to make this soft sort of almost-growl when he was especially into the music, almost like he was humming or purring, despite the fact that dogs couldn’t do either. It was all the little odd quirks that Puppy had that gave Bruce suspicions about his origins.

That, and the fact that Bruce always felt calmer around Puppy, no matter how agitated he’d been beforehand. He figured it had something to do with the nature of animals and their therapeutic effects on the human psyche, but it could have also just been more of Puppy’s unique brand of weirdness.

Despite repeatedly telling himself not to get attached, Bruce knew that he had failed miserably, and just hoped to God that Puppy was smart enough to turn around and run like hell if Bruce ever had an episode.

Like all good things in Bruce’s life though, everything inevitably went tits-up in truly spectacular fashion.

* * *

Alex had quickly become very attached to his new friend, and was just waiting for the inevitable day that Ross and Blonsky showed their sorry hides so he could gift them with a brand-new asshole collection.

Thaddeus ‘Thunderbolt’ Ross was definitely getting eaten as soon as Alex could manage it. No one caused his friend this much grief and got to keep their breathing privileges. Bruce worried constantly and was always looking over his shoulder and waiting for the other shoe to drop, and Alex fucking hated it.

He had a hard enough time preventing Bruce from becoming too depressed normally, and he didn’t need the added stress of the Thunderbitch dogging his every step on top of the whole mess of self-hatred and fear Bruce dealt with on a daily basis.

He found that he could sort of influence Bruce’s weirdo energy field using his own; not that he did so very often, but he did tend to smooth down the edges of Bruce’s temper whenever it seemed like he had a shit day, and it seemed to work wonders.

Despite all the shit he was dealing with, Bruce was an excellent pet owner. He knew Alex’s preferences and actually catered to them instead of ignoring them like a lot of people would.

Bruce had even bought a little used radio from a pawn shop after noticing how much Alex liked music. Something about music just soothed something in his weirdo eldritch viral instincts. It probably had to do with that weird sort of limbo-Void space he’d managed to magic himself into when he made the terrible decision to try and take a well-deserved nap after completely fucking demolishing Blackwatch.

He’d since concluded that it had not, in fact, been a dream. Somehow Alex’s dumbass had managed to sleepwalk itself into an entirely new plane of existence and then back out into a new universe. The weird Void-place had been full of the most beautiful music he’d ever heard, and something in him desperately wanted to go back and join in and never leave, but he’d squashed that strange urge as best he could.

No way in hell was he going to sleep again and potentially ending up in an even worse universe. It was stupidly, _impossibly_ lucky that he’d managed to land in one that had actual people in it and wasn’t, like, just full of flaming acid or something, let alone one where he had future knowledge he could totally use to cheat with.

Anyway, something about listening to music helped to smooth down the sharp edges of the urge to return to the Void that was always jabbing at him at least a little. Sometimes when the music was _just_ right, it went away almost completely, and Alex relished those brief moments of respite.

It also helped when Bruce gave him belly rubs and soft pets. Yeah, maybe it was weird to enjoy those things knowing he had a human—or formerly human—mind in a dog’s form, but whatever. It was only weird if you made it weird, and Alex liked them, and it helped improve Bruce’s mental state, so that was the end of that. The haters could fuck right off.

So, any time Bruce seemed sad or melancholy over failing to find a cure, or about his situation in general, Alex would use his weirdo eldritch powers to prevent his friend from potentially having a breakdown that would cause asstons of collateral damage, and he would also all but throw himself at the man and demand All The Attention so Bruce didn’t have time to think about how much his life sucked.

_Do not think about The Suck. Just pet The Doggo and marvel over how soft my fur is and how adorable I am in general. One day at a time, Bruce. Everything will work out in the end. I’ll make sure of that._

So, it was that line of thinking that led to Alex being 120% prepared to unleash a metric fuckton of whoop-ass on any would-be home invaders or secretly power-hungry psychotic soldiers.

Alex adamantly refused to sleep ever again, since the last time he did that he somehow sleepwalked across space and time to wind up in a completely different fucking dimension, which meant he was wide-awake when his intermittent Hunting Pulses caught wind of a dozen heavily-armed men slowly and steadily making their way through the neighborhood with the utmost of stealth.

Good thing Alex was a filthy fucking cheater and saw them coming from a half-mile away.

He immediately leapt up and began tugging at Bruce’s blankets and licking at his face to wake him up. The man grumbled and complained once he saw that it was still the middle of the night, but his face became concerned when Alex all but shoved Bruce’s bug-out bag into his arms and nudged him towards the window, whining in distress the whole way.

His friend caught on remarkably quick and began throwing his shoes on, quietly hissing curses in a half-dozen different languages.

Bruce hastily arranged some blankets and pillows under his covers along with a wig he’d bought to create the illusion that he was still in bed.

He wrung his hands as he tried and failed to figure out a way to bring Alex with him, and Alex just kept shoving him towards the window.

“I’ll miss you, Puppy, take care of yourself, okay? Once I’m gone you should run far away, don’t let them drag you back to a lab somewhere,” Bruce warned.

Alex’s mind whirled. What did Bruce suspect?

_I mean yeah, I didn’t act like a complete dumb animal, but I thought I’d done a better job than that, sheesh. I’m losing my touch, clearly. Oh well, I was planning on revealing myself to him one day anyway. Guess that day’s just going to be sooner rather than later._

He shook himself out of it; it wasn’t important at the moment. Bruce gave him one final scratch behind the ears and lowered himself out the window using a rope that had been tied to the solid metal faucet embedded in the concrete walls.

Alex, still mildly reeling, laid back down at the foot of the bed and feigned sleep to help sell the illusion that nothing was amiss. He wasn’t worried about losing track of his only friend. Alex had his scent memorized and his Hunting Pulse had mad range. Plus, no other human he’d encountered had so much as a lick of what Alex had dubbed Void-Energy, so Bruce practically shone like the sun in comparison, though if Bruce was a sun, Alex was a supernova, there was that much of a difference.

Unseen by anyone, Alex’s still form began invisibly emitting viral particles by the millions, quickly saturating the air of the apartment and sealing the fate of any of the soldiers stupid enough to follow the orders of the Thunderbitch.

None of the men who were invading Bruce’s apartment tonight would be leaving the place alive.

_Come at me, you fucksticks. No one hunts down my friends. Only I’m allowed to do that!_

Soon enough, a small, cylindrical spy camera was inserted under the door, and Alex continued to pretend to be asleep. The door soon exploded inwards in a shower of cheap wooden splinters and he leapt to his feet, barking as loudly and as menacingly as possible, and given how deep he’d made his dog-voice, it was pretty damn intimidating in Alex’s humble opinion.

His body was immediately shot full of insanely strong tranquilizers, and Alex pretended to fall unconscious. Unfortunately for the men, they came equipped for a mammalian target, not an unstoppable viral bioweapon from another dimension, so the tranquilizers did fuck-all to Alex’s eldritch biology.

He absorbed the chemical that was trying and failing miserably to put him to sleep in order to analyze its molecular make-up in order to replicate it later. Having access to military-grade tranquilizers was bound to come in handy at some point.

Alex’s lightning-fast mind quickly ripped apart the chemical formula of the drugs he’d just been pumped full of, and was immediately filled with anger. If he’d been a regular dog, he’d have died within seconds as the massive overdose of drugs stopped his heart.

 _Okay, so these fuckers would have just murdered a regular dog with zero remorse or hesitation, so imma make it extra painful, ‘cause_ fuck _these guys. Animal-murdering twat-waffles._

The men stormed into the apartment, and within seconds, their fates were sealed. Ross had clearly thought gas-masks weren’t a necessary piece of equipment for this op, not that it would have really helped any, to be fair. Alex’s viral form ate through filters like a motherfucker, and even the highest quality hazmat-grade air filters didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of stopping a virus that could become corrosive on command.

So, it was with much painful and agonized screaming that Emil Blonsky and his squad-mates died horribly. Blood vessels burst, DNA denatured, organs failed, and the men were all dead before they hit the ground.

Alex quickly crushed any of their recording devices and comms using stealthy tendrils. He caught snippets of Thunderbitch yelling on the other end, demanding to know what in the fuck was going on. He debated delivering a threatening message to leave Bruce the fuck alone or suffer the consequences, but he knew that it wouldn’t make a difference.

Ross would never stop hunting Bruce as long as either of them still lived. Unfortunately, offing Ross was not his priority right now, protecting Bruce was, so he swiftly Consumed the men, tactical gear and all, and began sifting through what little of their memories he got.

He hadn’t directly Consumed them, so he didn’t get many of their memories due to their brains having been partially liquified when they were infected, but Alex absolutely did not want to risk Ross knowing anything about him. Not yet at least.

The sheer uncertainty of not knowing what in the fuck had happened was likely to drive Thunderbitch up the wall, and Alex took solace in the fact. His reckoning would come later, but it would be _glorious._

When Alex left the apartment in the form of a blue-eyed crow, no trace of his presence remained. The apartment was completely empty. There were no bodies, no bloodstains, and not one single scrap of kevlar. The only evidence that anything was amiss was the destroyed door and the numerous broken tranq vials.

* * *

Alex winged his way toward the factory and saw the devastation Hulk had left in his wake. Alex alighted on the roof and took on the form of a bright-eyed rat to begin scoping the place out.

Once inside, he assumed his Mercer form for the first time in literal years and activated his visual camouflage, a technique he’d come up with that involved growing chromatophore cells on the surface of his form. That meant that he could change the color and texture of his skin even more rapidly than he was normally able, much like how an octopus or cuttlefish could.

Now properly stealthy, he snuck his way around completely undetected. Most of the men inside were in various states of dead or dying. Alex put the poor unfortunate souls out of their misery with either his Claws or Blade as he went around playing what he called Corpse Bingo.

_There’s impalement on some rebar, crushed to death, crushed to death, partially crushed to death, partially crushed but not quite dead yet, the unfortunate bastard—here, lemme fix that for you…_

_There’s a death by high velocity impact trauma over there by the wall, and oooooh, death by impalement again, but this time on a forklift prong! That counts as bonus points right? What am I saying, of course it counts as bonus points! I’m the one making the rules here!_

Alex amused himself as he waded through the carnage, utterly unconcerned by all the death that had happened there that night. If they had been innocents Alex might have given a damn, but seeing as how the deceased or soon-to-be-deceased were all either Ross’s butt-monkeys or local thugs who assaulted Bruce, Alex was fresh out of fucks to give.

_…Aaaaand there’s shot to death by friendly fire! Ladies and gentleman, we have BINGOOOO! Step right up and win a prize! What’s the prize? Free dinner and a show, of course!_

Alex chuckled darkly to himself as he finished Consuming the last living soldier in the factory. He’d managed to cut the man off mid-sentence with a Blade through the spine as he communicated frantically with Ross, and now he was alone in the demolished building.

_Well, that was disappointingly easy._

“Git gud, scrublords,” He chuckled as he picked his way through the rubble, searching for Bruce’s bug-out bag and muttering to himself. It felt good to talk again after so long. “If my memories serve me correctly, it should be around here somewhe—ah, there it is.”

Alex picked the bag up and inspected the contents, and was pleased to discover that nothing was damaged. The infamous laptop Bruce had bought months ago to communicate with Dr. Sterns had been wrapped in all the spare changes of clothes Bruce had packed, which cushioned it when it had been tossed about. Bruce’s small stash of money was still in there too. Alex took the opportunity to add several dozen more bills to the pile.

He stared down at the laptop, deep in thought. If he took the bag, Ross wouldn’t have access to the laptop that he used to track Bruce down in the movie, so perhaps Alex could prevent the university incident from happening at all? That would be fantastic for continuing to fly under the radar, but could mess up his future knowledge. Hmm...decisions, decisions.

On the one hand, it was part of Bruce’s character development, and it helped him see that Hulk was capable of recognizing allies and protecting people when he shielded Betty Ross from a missile, but on the other hand it was probably traumatizing for Bruce...

He slung the bag over his shoulder and bolted off into the trees, already sending out Hunting Pulses to pinpoint his friend’s location that he could still generally sense due to the greater amount of Void-Energy he was giving off while transformed. Alex’s legs chewed up the miles quicker than they had any right to.

* * *

Far away, General Thaddeus Ross contemplated the absolute shit-show the whole operation had become. The entire situation with Banner himself had been completely FUBAR, but what concerned him more was the disappearance of the entire strike team.

Blonsky and his team had screamed bloody murder for those few seconds before the helmet cams and comms lost all signal. When he sent in another team to provide backup, they’d found nothing. All the men had seemingly vanished without a trace.

In fact, every single man he’d sent after Banner had gone missing. There were no clues as to their whereabouts, and no threats or ransom demands had been made. No one had any clue as to what in the ever-loving fuck had happened.

He’d be communicating with his men one minute and—aside from Blonsky’s squad—the next the men would all gasp quietly before an odd squelching noise could be faintly heard before all communications ceased abruptly, like the devices had been destroyed.

All the cameras went dark too, and the only indication of the men’s assailant at all was a very slight visual distortion out of the corner of one of the men’s helmet cams just before it had gone dark, but it was too dark and low-res to make anything concrete out other than inhumanly bright ice-blue eyes.

Ross shivered when he recalled the sheer hunger and malice in the gaze. No way in hell was that thing human, and considering Banner had green eyes and had busted out of the back wall and run off into the jungle after turning into the monster, it wasn’t him either.

The entire situation was a certifiable clusterfuck, and Ross was wondering how he’d cover up the deaths of so many men on a mission that was _technically_ unsanctioned. Perhaps a ‘training accident’? That BS excuse usually worked.

Ross didn’t put much hope in recovering the men. Something in his gut told him they were all dead, Blonsky’s group most especially. Their screams had been…horrifying, to say the least. But, where had all the bodies gone? There hadn’t been any sort of blood smears or drag marks to indicate the bodies had been moved, so _what in the hell had happened to his men?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we starting to get into some familiar territory, but things are switched up enough to still be interesting (i hope) so yeah. things are going to be fairly different with the next chapter, and the 'incredible hulk' portion of the story will be altered quite a lot, and follow the movie plot a lot less as well, especially towards the end, so look forward to that! if you pay attention to all of my scatterbrained author's notes, you may remember me saying something about Bruce back in the first chapter's notes...hehehe, super excited for that part >:)


	4. Alex was the Imposter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo, here's the next chappie, according to my quasi-schedule. the hulk section was kept pretty much the same, but the following conversation is a lot different, and a lot longer, so the other half of the convo will be continued in the next chapter. alex continues his trend of ripping franchises off and still enjoys scaring the piss out of people.

Alex enjoyed racing through the jungle. It was a rare opportunity to practice his parkour without worrying about being seen pulling off inhuman contortions and other such badassery. He idly snagged various little snacks like tropical birds too slow to get out of his way and various poisonous frogs as he leapt between the trees with nary a whisper of rustling foliage to betray his passing.

He’d gone hunting across the planet in search of interesting DNA samples for literal years, so he didn’t gain anything new very frequently at all anymore. He had to kill the time somehow, after all, and he’d made good on that promise of a world tour yet again. He’d infiltrated all kinds of places he wasn’t supposed to know about and had had a fantastic time doing so.

Masters of the Mystic Arts were ever-so-fun to fuck with. Alex had enjoyed sneaking into what would later be Dr. Strange’s room in Kamar-Taj and leaving his mark on an inside corner of the man’s desk along with a brief little message in R’Lyehian in a very specific book just to fuck with him. Alex wondered if the man would ever notice, or if he would think the odd, tiny carving was just part of the table’s decorations. He wondered if any sorcerers would figure out how to translate Alex’s strange language, and if they did, what they would think of the message.

Sneaking into Kamar-Taj was no mean feat, and Alex had absolutely relished in the challenge. Turns out his own special brand of weirdness let him sense other special brands of weirdness, and he’d spent nearly three months deciphering the mystical defenses around the compound before he felt confident enough to bypass them without setting off any magical alarms.

It seemed his own eldritch energies lended themselves extremely well to stealth and infiltration. R’Lyehian was definitely a magical language, and a powerful one at that, given how it interacted with the extra-dimensional energies that the Masters of the Mystic Arts utilized to perform their various magical feats. Mainly, R’Lyehian subverted energies around it and totally overpowered everything it came into contact with. Alex was certifiably magical, which he thought was cool as all fuck, and totally broken. It did explain all of his weirdness though, or most of it at least.

Too bad his Void-Energies were very picky about being used externally, or Alex might have been temped to stay and see if they couldn’t help him learn magic.

He’d had fun poking at the metaphorical hornet’s nest for months before eventually moving on. It was amazingly entertaining to essentially leave magical graffiti all over their perimeter defenses and watch as they flummoxed over how to remove it when their magic slid off his like water off a duck’s back.

He’d only started messing with them after he’d infiltrated the compound though, so once The Ancient One showed up in all her bald glory to deal with his magically-inscribed drawings of dicks on their ancient magic shield, Alex had decided to leave. He wasn’t sure what her true capabilities were, but he didn’t get this far by being completely stupid. You couldn’t pay him to tangle with  _ that. _ Not yet at least. He’d be coming back to nick the Eye of Agamotto at some point though.

The oddly delicious-smelling piece of glorified magical rock candy would be his, dammit. He had an ugly raisin to destroy.

* * *

Many years later, Dr. Stephen Strange would sit down at his new desk and puzzle over a small rune-looking marking carved delicately into the corner of the desk. It blended rather well with the other decorations, but it stood out a bit because the style was much harsher-looking and more angular than the rest of the designs. Something about it seemed familiar to Stephen, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

As he needed to study ancient and often dead languages in order to read any of the really interesting magical texts, he quickly made a copy of the symbol on a spare piece of paper to investigate later, but no matter how he drew or re-drew it, the symbol never seemed to match, and for once it wasn’t due to his shaky, injured hands.

There was just something about the symbol that eluded him. His copies seemed almost…empty by comparison, as if some fundamental thing was missing from them. He figured it was a magic thing and put the mystery to the back of his mind to come back to later when he was a bit more well-versed in the Mystic Arts.

The symbol would remain forgotten about, until he used the Eye of Agamotto to restore a torn page out of the Book of Cagliostro. The page contained a small scattering of similarly bizarre-looking symbols, ending off with the one he recognized from his desk. The symbols stood out quite glaringly because despite the book being ancient, the symbols were written in modern, cheap, mass-produced, ball-point pen ink. Despite that, they retained the same otherworldly quality as the carving on his desk did.

The power of the Eye pulsed through him and the symbols seemed to subtly rearrange themselves until he could read them.

He leaned forward and read the now-understandable message.

_ “Dormammu is a greedy pig and his secret weakness is time-loops. Do me a solid and Groundhog Day that big purple bitch for me, pretty please? Why is it always the massive purple dudes that turn out to be douchebags, anyway?” _

Ending off the bizarre yet rather helpful message was the strange symbol from his desk that had translated extremely weirdly. It was written like it was the writer’s signature, and it couldn’t seem to decide what it wanted to say, quickly cycling through numerous odd and intimidating titles like ‘The Unchained Predator’, ‘Lord of Plague’, ‘The Face-Stealer’, and ‘The Living Nation’, before it finally settled on ‘Blacklight’.

He didn’t have much time to wonder about the whole phenomenon though, considering he got caught in the act of using the Eye of Agamotto and was thoroughly reprimanded by Mordo.

Later, when Dormammu began pulling Earth into the Dark Dimension, Stephen would remember the strange and helpful message he’d read scrawled on the pages of an ancient book in cheap modern ink.

“Guys, I have a plan, but you’ll have to trust me,” He said before unlocking the Eye and throwing himself headfirst into the Dark Dimension.

* * *

“That was incredible, how did you get Dormammu to admit defeat and leave?” Wong asked after the battle, sounding impressed by something Stephen did for perhaps the first time ever.

“I read it in a book, believe it or not.”

Wong just sighed, “Of course you did.”

* * *

Back in the present, Alex leapt between tree branches, occasionally sending out Hunting Pulses in order to keep tabs on his friend’s location. He caught up rather quickly all things considered, but he kept his distance at the moment while he contemplated what to do.

There were a lot of fan theories and debates about whether or not Hulk was actually a whole separate person living in Bruce’s brain, a split personality, or if Hulk was merely just Bruce’s consciousness in a more primal state, and he didn’t actually know which one was true.

The way Bruce had described it in Thor: Ragnarok made it sound like a case of Dissociative Identity Disorder gone horribly wrong, with the Hulk personality having been the one in charge on Sakaar.

The way Hulk and Bruce had merged in Avengers: Endgame also supported this theory, because split personalities could be merged back together into a single person with treatment and therapy, which is what appeared to have happened in that movie.

However, what Alex had witnessed during Bruce’s meditations and occasional frustrated and fearful ramblings, along with Hulk’s behavior in the 2008 Incredible Hulk movie seemed to support the ‘primal monkey hindbrain’ theory more in his opinion.

He also guessed that Bruce’s Void-Energy had something to do with the transformation, considering how much more active it was. It was blended into his form much better now, seeming to work with his body rather than just sort of sitting on top of it and hooking into him.

Thus, he couldn’t be sure which theory would prove to be true, due to the several discrepancies between his new reality and the MCU he remembered, so maybe other things were different as well?

Alex didn’t know, but he’d be supportive no matter what the case turned out to be, because that’s what friends did.

When Alex finally caught up to Hulk, he retreated a small ways and stashed Bruce’s backpack near a log to keep it safe, just in case things went south.

Hulk was currently stomping around tearing trees out of the ground and just generally wrecking shit when Alex stepped into the clearing, not afraid in the slightest.

Hulk did not appear to notice him at first, so he just sat quietly on the ground, waiting for the big green behemoth to notice him.

Hulk continued stomping around and huffing. Then, something seemed to catch his attention, and Hulk began sniffing the air repeatedly.

_ Well, that confirms my theory that Hulk, and likely Bruce too, have enhanced senses. I wonder how good his sense of smell is? _

Hulk eventually turned around and spotted Alex sitting there, and he growled deeply and bared his blunt teeth, tensing up, likely anticipating a fight of some sort.

Alex merely blinked and didn’t move otherwise, curious as to what Hulk would do with a ‘human’ that wasn’t scared of him or hostile. Hulk squinted at Alex, then his face seemed to harden and Hulk roared at him. Loudly.

Alex thought it was a very impressive roar, but if Hulk’s goal was to scare him off, he’d have to do a lot better than just some hot air.

He yawned, lazily covering his mouth.

Hulk blinked at him in confusion for a moment, likely used to people either screaming and running for the hills or shooting at him. Hulk growled at him again, taking a threatening step towards him but otherwise not coming any closer.

Hulk roared at him again, this time throwing the large chunk of shattered tree he was gripping in one meaty fist at Alex. The huge log of wood flew right over his head to crash harmlessly into the undergrowth.

Alex raised a single eyebrow before getting up, turning around, and leaving the clearing. He wasn’t running away though. He had a plan. A wonderfully chaotic plan.

When he returned to the clearing, he was carrying the large battered log above his head, lifting hundreds of pounds of wood in his comparatively tiny human-looking arms. He walked right up to Hulk, ignoring the threatening and agitated noises he was making and dropped the huge log at Hulk’s bare green feet. The log impacted the ground with a muffled boom.

Alex looked up at the behemoth before him and flatly stated, “You appear to have dropped this.”

Then Alex had to dedicate every spare ounce of brainpower into ruthlessly controlling his expression so he didn’t topple over laughing at the stunned expression on Hulk’s big, green face.

* * *

Hulk ran headlong into the jungle, even more furious than he was normally. The puny soldiers had shot their puny guns at him which was annoying, but Hulk was mostly mad that he had to leave Puppy behind. Hulk liked Puppy. Puppy wasn’t scared of Hulk when he was puny, unlike most animals, even if Puppy smelled and felt funny. Puppy was good company, and now Hulk had to run away because of the stupid puny soldiers.

Hulk ran for a long time before stopping. He ended up in a clearing and began venting his rage on the nearby plant-life, imagining it was Ross’s stupid face he was smashing and not boring trees.

Hulk raged at the unfairness of it all. He raged because he didn’t like sleeping in the cold, he raged because he didn’t like being hungry all the time, he raged because he didn’t like being attacked and hunted down by Ross, and he raged because he had to leave his only friend behind.

Hulk continued wrecking the nearby trees, but as he was doing so, he picked up on a most unusual smell that was vaguely familiar, along with the strange sort of feeling that something massive and dangerous was lurking nearby. Strangely, it didn’t feel hostile in the slightest.

The smell of sickness and stardust, with a slight undertone of ozone and decay wafted into Hulk’s nostrils from somewhere behind him. Hulk turned around and spotted a puny man sitting on the ground on the other side of the clearing.

Hulk growled at him on reflex. If he was smart, he would run away and leave Hulk alone. It was completely dark out, but Hulk had much better night vision than a human, so maybe the man hadn’t seen him somehow? Hulk was green like the trees, so maybe he blended in better than he thought?

Then Hulk noticed that the man was the thing that smelled like stardust and death with a sickly-sweet undertone of decay and a hint of ozone. Again, that specific combo of smells tickled at something in his brain, but he wasn’t sure what.

Hulk roared at the man after seeing that his growl hadn’t scared him off, and he was annoyed to see that he still wasn’t phased at the sound. The sound of Hulk’s roar had made grown men literally piss themselves and he was annoyed that this man didn’t smell scared at all. Was he just stupid?

Hulk was quickly growing frustrated that this stupid human wasn’t leaving him alone, so Hulk threw the log he was holding at the man, though he purposefully aimed above his head. It was the last warning the man would get.

Finally, the man seemed to understand because he stood up and left the clearing. Hulk barely had time to feel relieved that the strange-smelling man left him alone and didn’t try to attack him before the man came back, this time carrying the massive log Hulk had thrown at him.

The Thing, for it clearly wasn’t human, that smelled like sickness and stardust walked fearlessly up to him and dropped the log at Hulk’s feet.

“You appear to have dropped this.” The Thing said.

Hulk was shocked to say the least. He rumbled uncertainly and shuffled his enormous feet. He wasn’t sure what to do. The Thing didn’t smell scared or hostile at all and Hulk wasn’t sure what to do with a creature like that. Why wasn’t it scared of him?

...Was the Thing like Hulk?

He then noticed that the Thing was the source of the strange feeling. The Thing was definitely a predator of some kind, an Apex one, too. It didn’t seem to be hostile and it wasn’t attacking Hulk, so perhaps it would answer his questions. Hulk felt sort of excited at the thought. He’d never gotten to ask anyone a question before. They were usually too busy shooting at Hulk or running away in fear because they were puny compared to Hulk.

“Why Thing not scared of Hulk? Is Thing like Hulk? Why Thing smell familiar? Hulk never seen Thing before.”

The Thing stuck its hands into the pockets of its leather jacket and replied, “Well, I am not afraid of you because you are my friend, even if you do not recognize me in my current shape. I usually look much different than this, but I didn’t ever bother changing my scent, so perhaps you recognize that?”

Then the Thing leaned over, and in a whirl of strange black and red vines, took on a shape Hulk was much better acquainted with.

“Puppy?” Hulk asked. He’d have been suspicious that they were truly the same, but they had the same eyes and the Thing’s smell didn’t change at all.

When Hulk was puny, his nose wasn’t as good, so he hadn’t noticed the death-and-stardust smell as much. Now that Hulk was no longer puny, his nose was even better and the scent was a lot clearer.

Puppy reared up and turned back into a man with more of those strange vines, and his bright blue eyes shone out from under his hood.

“Yes, you knew me as Puppy when you thought I was just a dog, but please call me Alex. My dog shape has many uses, but being a good communicator isn’t one of them. It is nice to meet you,” The Thing-that-was-Puppy said.

It extended one arm towards Hulk, and it took him a second to realize that Puppy wanted to shake hands with Hulk. Like an equal. Hulk found he liked being talked to like a person and not just screamed at and called a monster.

Puppy’s hand was puny, so Hulk extended a single finger for Puppy to shake. Puppy took his finger and smiled a smile that looked more like a dog baring its teeth than anything else. It even had fangs! Hulk grinned back in much the same way, though Hulk lacked the same sort of intimidating dentition. Hulk tried to not feel too envious that Puppy had a scarier smile than Hulk, even when he looked like a puny human.

Despite knowing that Puppy wasn’t hostile, it was hard to not feel at least a little intimidated. Puppy smiled like he was trying to figure out the best way to eat you and what parts were tastiest.

They shook hands and Hulk noticed that Puppy’s grip was much stronger than a human’s, and Hulk remembered the giant log Puppy had carried before.

“Puppy strong like Hulk?” He asked.

Puppy grimaced a bit at the name but said nothing about the name.

“Yes, I suppose I would be. Why? Do you wish to test your strength against mine?” Puppy asked, tilting his head to the side like he did when he was Puppy-shaped.

Hulk hadn’t thought of that but became excited at the prospect of someone strong enough to challenge him. Hulk nodded.

“Puppy strong, but Hulk strongest!” He declared confidently. Hulk had never met someone who was on his level strength-wise.

Puppy smiled even wider than before, and there was a burning fire in his eyes.

“A worthy challenge! I accept!”

* * *

Alex was having a blast. When you weren’t shooting at him or actually attacking him, Hulk was pretty chill. He was having the time of his life mock-fighting and full-body wrestling.

Of course, to an outside observer, it probably looked like they were trying to kill each other, considering they were throwing trees and boulders and other things and slamming each other into the ground, but it was all in good fun.

They were shrieking and roaring at each other in laughter and joy, and the sound would probably make any sane person run for the hills.

Hulk indeed proved to have superior raw strength, but Alex was adaptable and could morph his entire body like taffy so they were pretty evenly matched when they weren’t going all out. Of course, Alex’s strength also scaled pretty linearly with how much mass he had available, and he massed only a few tons at the moment.

Also, if Alex really wanted to kill Hulk, he’d just have to sneeze wrong and the whole thing would be all over. Hulk’s, and by extension Bruce’s, main defense against becoming sick was being a walking gamma generator, which had a tendency to kill any outside microbes.

Of course, Alex was Blacklight, and Blacklight was bullshit, so Alex had already adapted to be immune to radiation months ago due to Consuming Ego’s weirdo doom flower. Alex had already obtained samples of Bruce’s cells and truly unique DNA as a consequence of living with the man for five months, and while it would definitely be more difficult than infecting a regular human, even the Hulk wasn’t immune to Blacklight. His energies would fight back some, but compared to Alex’s they were negligible, so they wouldn’t stop the infection from happening, merely slow it down.

He’d never do that though. Bruce was his only friend. Alex would rather go back to the dreaded tube in the lab than hurt him.

Though Hulk had insane stamina, it wasn’t endless—unlike Alex’s—so eventually he claimed to be tired and went to sleep. Alex promised to keep him safe while he was ‘puny’ and so Hulk dropped off to sleep quickly and reverted into Bruce, who slept like the dead.

Alex debated whether or not to bring Bruce in on his secret, but he decided to take a ‘wait and see’ approach. If Bruce showed signs of remembering what happened as Hulk, Alex would spill the beans, or some version of the truth, at least. If he had zero recollection, then there was no reason Alex couldn’t continue to be Puppy, Bruce’s faithful, furry friend.

As he contemplated what sort of cover story to use, Alex assumed his favorite form, tied only with his Shoggoth one.

See, one interesting thing that he’d noticed was that while some franchises and characters existed in the MCU the same as they did in the other two dimensions, some didn’t or were greatly altered. People ended up looking like their film portrayals and the actors just didn’t exist in the MCU, with Bruce looking like Mark Ruffalo.

One example was the DOOM franchise which Alex had already ripped off and made a piece of its lore his own, and he’d been eager to see if he could rip off yet another franchise. Although this one  _ did _ exist in the MCU, as evidenced by a throw-away line from Spider Man in one of the final movies.

It took a lot of experimentation, gene-gathering, and had even required him to make use of Redlight’s ability to randomize and extrapolate genetic sequences to get everything just right, but Alex was extremely proud to announce that he’d brought fantasy into reality and assumed the form of one of the scariest movie-monsters to ever grace the big screen: the Xenomorph.

Of course Alex had made a few personal tweaks, but other than that, everything was quite accurate to the source material. His form resembled a Queen Xenomorph the most, although there were characteristics from other castes of Xenomorph as well.

His head crest was impressive and featured long jagged edges, looking almost like wide teeth, but it was not the impractically large size seen in the films. It curled back and slightly upwards, flaring out a bit like the Queen’s crests typically did though.

His dorsal tubes looked more like the ones found on a Drone and were not quite as spine-like as a typical Queen’s, and they transformed seamlessly into Alex’s Feeder Tendrils when he needed them to. Otherwise, they acted mainly as sensory organs and greatly amplified his sensitivity to vibrations in particular.

When he had them formed, he could navigate using only them to sort of echolocate very easily, but Alex would never limit himself like that. Though his face seemed eyeless, he could see just fine, and he experienced a vastly expanded array of light frequencies thanks to having Consumed a Mantis Shrimp, which had sixteen different types of cells responsible for sensing light in their eyes, compared to a human’s measly four. 

He suspected that it was the additional sensor cells and reflective layers in his eyes that made them so unsettling to most people—when they were present on his form at any rate.

His prehensile tail was long and segmented, with a semi-extendable and slightly curved Blade on the end. His fingers were all a bit elongated and tipped with short hooked claws that were also semi-retractable, but retained mostly human proportions relative to each other.

The palms on his larger set of arms were also elongated and equipped with tough pads on certain sections, mainly near the base of the fingers and on the fingers themselves. The elongated palms and arrangement of fingers allowed Alex to use them as either front legs or another set of arms, depending on what he needed them for.

His second set of arms emerged more from the front of his chest as opposed to the sides and were smaller and more delicate—clearly meant for tasks that required fine motor control, while his larger main set were suited for tasks that required brute strength. Small spikes extended from the elbows of all of his arms.

His digitigrade hind legs allowed him to either walk mostly upright in a slightly-hunched predatory posture, or on all fours when he used his larger set of arms as front legs. His six toes were also adorned with hooked claws, and the positioning of the two outermost toes allowed him to grip things with his feet as if they were hands.

An intricately patterned, pitch-black carapace covered his form, and sinister-looking red bioluminescent markings bloomed across everything as a finishing touch. The marks rather resembled angular and angry-looking tiger stripes. Short black spines typical of the virus’s aesthetic adorned his body in certain places, mainly across his upper arms, shoulders, legs, and a few along his hips and down his spine.

Overall, he looked like something out of a nightmare, and he languidly stretched everything out, running his long black tongue over both of his jaws. When it wasn’t extended, his second inner mouth sat tucked away at the back of his throat. Unless he flexed it a bit, you couldn’t really see it when he opened his mouth. His form was just a bit taller than Hulk if he were to stand up completely straight, but he looked a bit shorter most of the time due to how he normally stood leaning forward a bit in a sort of saurian posture.

He much preferred his Xenomorph form over basically any other shape available to him other than his Shoggoth one, with which it was tied. It definitely wasn’t human, though it was just humanoid enough to be familiar. Alex thought it was the perfect balance between the two, but he didn’t often get to use it due to his worries over being spotted by some random douche with a camera, Bigfoot-style.

Now that no one was around or conscious enough to panic over existing on the same planet as a Xenomorph, Alex relished the chance to exist in his favorite shape as he made plans for the future.

He approached the fallen form of his friend and cautiously poked him in the cheek using his smaller set of arms.

Bruce didn’t so much as twitch.

_ Yep, he’s completely conked out. _

Alex looked at the state of Bruce’s dress and winced. Unlike in the movies where they had to maintain a PG-13 rating, Bruce’s pants did not conveniently stretch with him when he went green.

Oh, there were still a few tattered shreds clinging to his legs, but nothing that really protected his modesty much at all.

Alex had already seen Bruce in various states of nudity though. He’d lived with the man for five months as a dog, and most people weren’t concerned about protecting their modesty in front of animals.

Not that Alex cared one whit either way. He was asexual—always had been. His libido as a human had been basically non-existent, and now that he was a sapient virus with no biological imperative that involved sex or sex organs, it  _ was _ non-existent.

Still, Bruce probably didn’t enjoy waking up buck-ass nude in the middle of some God-forsaken jungle, but Alex wondered if it would be a good idea to try and dress him or not. Would it be considered  _ more _ or  _ less _ creepy if your friend changed you in your sleep so your bits weren’t hanging out for the world to gawk at?

Alex had never had real friends before, and had certainly never encountered a scenario anything close to what was happening now, so he wasn’t sure. He consulted his stolen memories on the matter, and eventually decided on wrapping his friend up in a blanket to preserve his modesty instead.

Unfortunately, Alex didn’t have a blanket and Bruce didn’t have one in his bag, so that left him with the option of acquiring one somehow, or making one. Fortunately, he did actually have the means to make one himself.

He extended several tendrils from his back and formed spinnerets on the ends and deftly began weaving a crude blanket using spider silk and the stolen knowledge of knitting that had once belonged to a Blackwatch soldier, interestingly enough. Just goes to show that anyone could have hidden depths, he supposed.

With all of his tendrils working together, the blanket was soon completed. It definitely wasn’t very pretty, but it was functional and that was what mattered. Bruce was still totally out cold, so Alex delicately shifted him around to maneuver him into a blanket burrito.

With his friend’s modesty secured, Alex picked Bruce and his bag up with his secondary set of arms and wandered off in search of shelter for the night. As he searched, he contemplated how he was going to play this. Bruce already suspected something was up, and if Alex appeared by his side as Puppy in the middle of the jungle, it would raise a bunch of questions, so Alex decided to formulate a cover story that would explain some of his inexplicable knowledge as well as his own general eldritch-ness if he decided to reveal himself.

He’d discovered a lot about his viral powers, the strange Void-place, and his new eldritch energies since he’d first arrived years ago, and now he’d get to put his knowledge and speculations to good use.

Like the fate-weaving Norns from Norse mythology, Alex spun an epic tale, weaving truths, lies, his own speculations, and bits of [PROTOTYPE] lore together seamlessly to create a great tapestry of falsehood. All that was left was to tell it.

* * *

When Bruce awoke, he immediately noticed the intense soreness in all his muscles and bones consistent with an episode, and when he tried to move, he discovered that he seemed to be restrained.

The memories of what happened last night just before he’d had his latest episode came flooding back and he immediately panicked.

_ OhGodohshitoh _ fuck…! _ Ross must have had some new tranqs or something,  _ fuck, _ how’d I get caught?! Doesn’t matter, I need to get the fuck outta here  _ right now, _ before they start cutting me open! _

After an episode, it was extremely difficult to trigger the transformation again. He needed a bit of time to recuperate between freak-outs, so he couldn’t even count on the monster’s help to free himself.

He tore his eyes open and blinked them furiously, trying to rid them of the tears caused by the sudden influx of bright light.

When his vision cleared, he became confused, because he was expecting cold, sterile, lab walls, not a rocky overhang in what was clearly still the jungle he must have escaped into last night.

He looked down at himself and became even more confused. He wasn’t restrained on an autopsy table by straps, but by some strange white bit of cloth wrapped securely around him on the soft ground of the jungle floor. It felt sort of like silk, if silk fibers were enormous and knitted together.

Now that he knew what he’d been tangled up in, he began freeing himself. He was supremely confused as to how he’d come to be in such a situation however, and the flashes of green-tinged memories he was getting were of no help.

The Other Guy had just smashed trees for a few hours and had a really weird daydream about fighting some sort of shapeshifting creature after absolutely murdering the fuck out of Ross’s men before Bruce came back out, it seemed, which meant that his current situation must have come about after he’d passed out completely. That was a frightening thought. Someone had clearly stumbled across him while he was completely defenseless, but thankfully, they didn’t seem to want him dead at least.

He doubted that they had seen anything. Anyone sane would have taken one look at the big green monster he became and run for the hills, not wrap him up in a blanket to preserve his modesty and leave him somewhere dry and not out in the open.

Now free from his cloth prison, he got up and began investigating, using the large, crude blanket like a toga. He found his bug-out bag waiting for him near where he’d been sleeping and marveled over its impossibility as he fished a change of clothes out and put them on hastily.

_ My bag got left behind back in the factory after I had an episode! How is it here? _

The answer came in the form of a deep, familiar ‘boof’ as his only friend smooshed his furry face into the backs of Bruce’s legs, tail flailing everywhere in happiness.

“Puppy! How’d you get all the way out here?” Bruce asked excitedly, bending down to hug his faithful companion, grateful for the company and the knowledge that Puppy wasn’t dead. “Either someone took you with them when they found me, or you really are smarter than you should be.”

Puppy tilted his head as he looked at Bruce, tail slowing as he seemed to contemplate something. His gaze held far too much intelligence to belong to a common animal.

“You really  _ can _ understand me, can’t you?” Bruce said quietly, marveling over the fact.

Puppy opened his mouth, and though it did not move with his words, from his throat echoed a deep, raspy voice, “I can do a whole lot more that that, I assure you. It’s about time you figured out something was amiss, honestly. I’m surprised I lasted this long. Was it anything in particular that gave me away or was it just a bunch of little things that added up over time?”

Bruce’s brain did the human equivalent of a Blue Screen of Death as he tried and failed to understand what was happening.

“Oh my God, my dog can talk… _ how _ can my dog talk? What the fuck is happening right now?  _ Is this a dream?” _ He whispered to himself.

“If only this was all a dream. How lovely that would be…sleep is a dangerous thing, Bruce. You never know where your unconscious mind might wander in its dreams. Accidentally falling through the cracks in between realities is always a risk, and almost never pleasant. Trust me, I would know,” Puppy replied, sounding bitter near the end.

Bruce blinked as he parsed that bizarre sentence out. “Is that…what happened to you? Are you an alien?”

“Mmm…in a way, I suppose I am. To me, humans are the aliens though. And yes, that is what happened to me. Went to sleep in one reality and woke up in another. I’ve avoided sleeping ever since. The place I woke up in was not a particularly pleasant one.”

“Ummm…I’ve got  _ so many _ questions,” Bruce started awkwardly.

“Then ask them. The worst I could do is refuse to answer them.”

Bruce nodded stiffly. “Alright then, I guess I should start by asking your real name. I can’t very well keep calling you Puppy…”

* * *

Alex was surprised. The first thing Bruce did after gathering his wits about him was ask his name, instead of demands to know what the hell he was, what the hell he was talking about, and what the hell he was doing there. He was sort of touched, honestly.

Alex introduced himself and mentally reviewed the story he was about to tell, keeping in mind the speech patterns he wanted to use. An alien that had wandered the planet alone for many years would not have really picked up on modern slang or have cause to use it in conversation.

* * *

“You know, I think this is the first time someone has ever asked me that question since I arrived in this dimension and I can respond with the truth instead of a lie. My true name is **N’ghftog’mgn'ghft** _(Blacklight)_ , but don’t even bother trying to pronounce it. Humans lack the vocal capabilities necessary to speak my language. You may call me Alex.”

“Uhh, it’s nice to meet you Alex, but why would you need to lie about your name? People don’t generally ask dogs their names. Also,  _ this dimension?” _ Bruce asked curiously. 

The whole situation was completely nuts, and Bruce was just rolling with everything for now. What else was he supposed to do? Panicking and flailing around wouldn’t help anything. He’d much rather spend his time getting some answers to the millions of questions he had.

“Well, I am not always in the form of a dog. I am a shapeshifter, the best one to ever grace this plane. Anything the Skrulls say to the contrary is a dirty lie. As for my extra-dimensional nature, even I’m not completely sure quite what happened there, but it’s a long and grisly tale.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got anywhere pressing to be at the moment,” Bruce said wryly. “Before you get started though, mind telling me what a Skrull is?”

“Skrulls are a race of shapeshifting aliens that specialize in infiltration currently recovering from losing a war with the Kree, another race of aliens who are ruled by an AI. The Kree are highly xenophobic and willing to go to war over the slightest of things. The Skrulls were innocent of wrongdoing, but the Kree didn’t see it that way,” Alex said, shaking his head.

“As for my story…it is complicated but I will do my best to explain. I am not native to this plane of existence. I do not know how I came to be here. I originate from a place I have no true name for, though I suppose humans might refer to it as the Void, the space between spaces. I was not always capable of higher thought as I am now. Before, I was barely more intelligent than a chimpanzee. I possessed some degree of intellect, but I was not truly self-aware. I am a conglomerate lifeform composed of millions of cells sharing one consciousness, though I suppose the same could be said of any multicellular lifeform.

I existed as a sort of symbiotic organism, sharing the body of a host. My kind possesses the ability to unlock the latent potential of other beings, but the integration process is messy and often fails if the host is not perfectly genetically compatible.

When it went well, the host benefitted from vastly improved physical capabilities, including a sort of limited body morphing ability. In return, I would be able to spawn more of myself using the host’s store of biomass to replicate, much like the viruses of this dimension, except the arrangement was mutually beneficial and did not kill the host.”

“And what happened if the integration failed?”

“The host’s body would mutate out of control and eventually perish. For my kind, I was very young though, and had not even had time to initiate my first bonding process before I fell from the Void. Hosts at the time were scarce, so I went to sleep, an unnecessary process for my kind but one that helped pass the time and conserved energy. I immersed myself in the Songs and drifted off, only to awake somewhere new and frightening.

I was able to comprehend so much more than before, but I still knew so little about my situation. My form was greatly diminished and I was confused and alone, and for the first time in my entire existence, everything was Silent. The Songs of my brethren were no longer there. It was Silent and wrong. So, so wrong.

I heard strange noises and did not understand them, for they were not Songs, but I remembered all of them, and later when I learned how to understand other languages and how to comprehend the words of my captors, I looked back on my memories and understood.

I was not supposed to be aware or gain awareness, but I had anyway. I was in a lab that was researching biological weapons and the scientists had stumbled across me sealed in a frozen comet. I have no idea how I ended up in a comet in this dimension. I have only vague theories, but no concrete proof.

My body was reduced to its most basic and pure form due to prolonged starvation—an immobile liquid. They took me and discovered what potential I had for their weapons development program. They stuck me in a test tube and ripped my genetic code apart, over and over and over  _ and over—” _ Alex was cut off by a pair of arms wrapping around his furry neck in an embrace.

“It's okay, you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to, I’m sorry I brought up memories of something so horrible.”

“No. I want to tell you this. I  _ need _ to tell someone. My existence has been so Silent, and I have been alone…so very, very alone…please, listen. I beg you.”

“Alright.”

“Thank you. I was taken apart and put back together so many times I doubt I still qualify as the same species anymore. They made me into a monster. That is what they wanted: a chained monster that would kill whatever it was pointed at. I was no longer a symbiotic lifeform that brought out a host’s latent potential and abilities, but a mere parasite that killed everything I touched. Instead of coexisting and enhancing what already existed, I took over and subsumed the host until there was nothing left of them, assimilating their DNA and using it to evolve myself.

I can only assume that they let me do that too many times during trial runs, not realizing that even when my cells are separated, I control them and any genetic information I came into contact with during the tests, I stored and replicated back in my main mass, allowing me to improve myself without their direct input. I must have done something that allowed for self-awareness, and from there everything spiraled out of control.

The scientists didn’t realize what they had created. I evolved and improved myself with every test, every bit of torture they called  _ progress, _ and waited for that perfect opportunity to escape. It eventually arrived when the lead scientist learned that as the project— _ me _ —was nearing completion, the other scientists were getting ‘taken care of’ in dark alleyways to keep the knowledge that they were developing a biological superweapon a secret.

He destroyed all the lab data used in my creation, took the vial that contained me and bolted. He didn’t get very far before he was cornered and killed, but as his last act he smashed the vial containing my liquid body on the floor of a transportation hub out of spite, hoping I would kill hundreds. I did not. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do, but I kept from infecting any innocent people in that station, despite how much my new body wanted me to.

He was immediately gunned down afterward and his lifeless body fell on top of my liquid form, and all of the sudden, new instincts I didn’t even know I had were in the driver’s seat, as it were. I had finally lost the fight against my new monstrous nature.

I invaded his cells, taking their genetic code into myself and finally satisfying the aching pit inside of me that I now knew was hunger, and not merely my intense longing to return home to the others and hear their Songs once more.

As I was still running purely on new artificial instincts and biological directives I’d never had to deal with before, it took me a while to get my bearings as I realized that I could now see out of and move the body I’d taken over. With it came strange memories of things I’d never experienced, people I remembered speaking to that I’d never seen before, and a whole host of other things. I finally comprehended what had happened to me, and I was so, so  _ furious. _

They had stolen me from my home, tortured me,  _ violated me, _ perverted my very being, my entire purpose, and wanted to  _ enslave me. _ They didn’t realize that they had gotten  _ exactly _ what they asked for: a monster. An angry, ruthless,  _ hungry _ monster. One who had every reason to seek revenge, and so I did.

I escaped from the morgue where they had stored the scientist’s body, thinking that their project had failed, and I soon discovered the true extent of my new abilities. I could take another’s genetic code and assimilate it into myself, and copy everything about them, right down to their forms and memories by infecting and absorbing their bodies, which I called Consuming. I was now a sapient disease, and I used that to my advantage. With my ability to Consume and then perfectly imitate the victim, right down to unconscious mannerisms, I was the perfect saboteur.

However, the memories I was gaining access to were full of holes and huge blank spots because I had no idea what I was even doing. I went around and infiltrated the organization that was responsible for my apparent abduction and subsequent torture to learn more.

I needed to find out the truth of what happened to me. In the end, I burned the organization to the ground and had Consumed most of its members or had otherwise killed the rest, but none of them had an explanation as to how I came to be. I was an impossibility. Nothing they were doing should have led to me falling asleep in my home and waking up in an entirely different universe trapped in a comet where they first found me, so that leaves it as something I must have done, however unconscious it was.

I was desperate to get home to the Others, to once again hear the Songs, but I had no idea how. They were an entire dimension away. I could faintly sense energies that felt familiar, that felt like home, so I followed their faint traces. I still possess some of those energies inside myself that I can use in a variety of ways, but that’s neither here nor there.

I snuck aboard a ship leaving the planet and secretly hitchhiked across the galaxy to arrive on the planet that had the greatest sources of Void Energies I could feel for parsecs. Even now, they’re barely more than faint traces, though I’ve searched across the globe for their sources with no luck. It’s a miracle I was even able to pinpoint this planet as where they were coming from in the first place.

I’ve since spent the time aimlessly wandering the planet in search of them, but I’ve just about given up hope,” Alex said sadly. “Human music cannot truly compare, but it is the closest thing I have to the Songs and it is beautiful in its own way, so I sought no way to leave the planet. It soothes some primal part of my mind.”

“I’m  _ so _ sorry that happened to you…being caught and tortured and used like that is literally my worst nightmare,” Bruce said quietly. “What are the ‘songs’ you keep mentioning? They sound very important to you,” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“They are. My kind constantly communicate with each other using the Songs in a huge interconnected metaphysical web, you would perhaps liken it to a Hivemind, but that is still not quite accurate. Each of us has our own Song, and they all blend together in a single Symphony. Each Song distinct, yet harmonious with each other. It is beautiful beyond anything your human languages can describe. Only now can I appreciate it in full, so only now can I truly understand what I have lost. My sapience is a blessing and a curse, as are my new capabilities.

I admit, I have grown fond of the shapeshifting aspect. Combining DNA to create new form templates is something of a pastime for me. This planet is so rich with life, all of it distinct and diverse in a way that my kind were not. Humans are such fascinating creatures; so divided and yet unified in a strange way. While I have since grown rather fond of my new existence, I would trade it all away in a heartbeat to return home.

That is why I say sleep is dangerous and refuse to partake. What if I sleep and travel somewhere new by accident? It is not necessary for me to sleep, even in my new twisted body, and at least here I am powerful. None of your Earth weapons could do me harm beyond a mild inconvenience and some pain. Not even your feared ‘nukes’ could kill me, not truly. I would always come back.”

“That’s…a lot to take in…” Bruce said, mind whirling with all the new information that had been dumped into his lap. “Why a dog? And why stick with me? Surely you had better things to be doing than be treated like an animal?”

“Dogs are seen as ‘man’s best friend’ here. They are thought of as relatively harmless, and most decent people would hesitate to outright harm one, even a stray. Strays are common enough in most places that no one pays me any mind. If I need to interact, a human form is easy enough to assume. I have thousands of templates to choose from, after all. No one misses criminals and low-lives. My new body comes with its own set of needs, and my rather gruesome dietary requirements are one of them.

Thankfully, I have since been able to evolve some workarounds, so I no longer need to Consume to survive, but in order to repair myself and truly thrive, I still require the occasional bit of live prey.

While I could live off of large animals somewhere far off in the wilderness, I don’t want to. Humanity is interesting, and it is also where the music is. I have no desire to return to the dreaded Silence. I would do unspeakable things to avoid such a fate.

Of all the things I’ve encountered in my many years residing on this planet, you carry some of the strongest traces of Void Energy I’ve ever seen. It clings to your soul. At first I found it comforting and sought to stay by your side for no other reason, but I have since come to care for you as a friend and I do not wish to leave you. If you permit it, I would like to stay.

The man who hunts you has greatly offended me, and I shall not let such insult go unpunished. He shall pay, one way or another, but your safety is much more important to me.”

“Ross? How has he offended you?”

“The puny human  _ dared _ to touch what is mine. You are my friend. No one hurts my friends,” Alex declared, lips peeling back in a parody of a smile to bare teeth that were much sharper and more numerous than they had been before.

Bruce just marveled at the easy shapeshifting blatantly on display in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed the shift happen.

“If it isn’t too rude to ask, can I see you shapeshift? The process sounds intriguing. If you transform by assimilating DNA, can you copy scars or other markings that aren’t influenced by genetics?” Bruce was staunchly ignoring the implications of Alex’s words, not wanting to think about how many people he may have killed and…absorbed. Besides, stones and glass houses and all that. Bruce had no room to judge Alex for killing people to survive. At least he was in control of himself and chose to kill horrible people. Bruce was just a mindless beast that murdered everyone in his way when he got mad.

“I copy everything, even fingerprints, and I would be delighted to shift forms for an audience. I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted to impress before. Any requests?” Alex said with no small amount of pride, looking delighted at the prospect of getting to show off.

“Umm, what form are you most comfortable in?”

“One form is as comfortable as the next, but my favorite…it’s a very special one that I worked on for years as a sort of hobby project. Finding the right genetic samples to make everything look just right took me many years and required a bit of creative thinking, but I’m extremely pleased with how it turned out. I gained valuable insight into how my own shapeshifting abilities work, so it holds a special place in my non-existent heart. I do so rarely get the opportunity to use it though, on account of it not looking human in the least and being quite frightening. I do not enjoy drawing attention to myself, for the most part.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” Bruce said with confidence. He’d watched loads of horror movies before the accident made it a bad idea for him to do anything that raised his heart rate too much. Besides, the monster he became was his greatest fear nowadays, and it wasn’t like Alex was about to transform into that, so he figured he was good.

Alex shifted in a whirl of squirming red and black tendrils and Bruce realized that he was wrong. So very, very wrong. There was a Xenomorph not five feet in front of him, towering and tall, covered in sharp angles and angry red glowing markings.

Bruce had watched loads of horror movies in the past, but he’d always been the most horrified and haunted by the Alien franchise. The idea of something laying eggs in your chest cavity and having something claw its way out of your body while you were still alive to feel everything was something that never failed to make Bruce go green around the gills, and for once not because he was angry.

So, Bruce was not ashamed to admit he screamed like a little girl and jumped back a few feet in terror before his rational brain caught up with the rest of him.

Alex rolling around in the dirt, laughing his tail off helped the whole thing seem much less threatening as well.

“Oh, by the Great Symphony, that was amazing! You should have seen the look on your face! Ha!” Alex laughed in his deep raspy voice, using one of his smaller arms to point right at Bruce’s face.

Bruce noticed the head crest and the extra pair of arms and remarked, “A Queen Xenomorph? Guess it’s go big or go home, eh?” He immediately mentally cursed himself over the insensitive slip of the tongue, but thankfully Alex didn’t seem to take offense.

“Oh, if only I could get home by being lazy! You humans are so very creative when it comes to inventing new ways to terrify yourselves, truly!” He laughed, pulling himself upright. He towered over Bruce, fangs glistening in the sun as he smiled.

Now that Bruce was over his initial fright, his scientific mind was once more whirling with questions.

“How deep does the transformation go? Do you have organs like this? What about the acid blood? And the weird second mouth thing? Also, can you still see?” Bruce tried to reign himself in so he didn’t overwhelm his conversational partner, but Alex kept up no problem.

“In order: all the way down to the genetic level, but no organs other than sensory ones and a few minor ones that serve utilitarian functions like a basic support structure and the organic armor plating, I can make myself acidic on command, so in a way, yes, and I do have a pharyngeal jaw tucked away in the back of my throat. If I’m not actively using it though, you can’t really see it unless you decide to stick your head in my mouth, which I don’t recommend for a variety of reasons. And yes, despite not having visible eyes, I can see much better than any other living thing on this planet. You look particularly fetching in ultraviolet by the way, your Blaschko's Lines are unusually symmetrical but very beautiful.”

_ “So cool,” _ Bruce breathed, his inner nine year old showing through. He had a real-life interdimensional alien in front of him shapeshifted to look like an infamous horror movie monster, and it was friendly and didn’t want to eat his face or lay eggs in his chest. He was allowed a bit of whimsy, okay?

“I am, as they say, very cool,” Alex said with the utmost seriousness, nodding his crested head.

Bruce could do nothing but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol, so how bout that? alex's cover story is a bit different and a bit closer to the truth. alex showcases his more vicious, brutal side a bit more, which will be a theme in this story. i hinted at it earlier, but being the embodiment of blacklight comes with a few...psychological quirks...some of which are rather noticeable, and others that are not. regardless, alex is gonna come off as even less human than before at certain points. humans are interesting in that they are both surprisingly good at picking out when things aren't quite right, but also have an enormous capacity towards willful ignorance and trying to explain things away first.
> 
> also, Blaschko's Lines are like invisible stripes found on humans that you can see under a powerful enough blacklight (hehehe, puns) they form during embryonic development and look really cool, go look them up!
> 
> also xenomorphs. they scary. and the lore between xenomorphs and blacklight are similar in certain ways, and when my brain made that connection, i couldn't help myself. so now alex's 'combat form' is now a smaller, slightly modified queen xenomorph form. that's not gonna freak people out at allllll...
> 
> comment what you think of the changes if you read my old version, or what you think of the story so far even if you haven't! comments feed my muse :)


	5. On the Road Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's a bit of a shorter one, but that's just how things flowed. we get the end of the convo from last chapter, and a bit of the beginning of the travel-montage. lotta bruce POV, but remember, Alex is laying out his cover story and trying to worldbuild a bit for bruce here in order to explain some of the abilities he has access to. so, take pretty much anything alex says to bruce when we get bruce's POV with a pinch of salt. alex is a master bullshitter, and bruce has no way to call him on it or even suspect that alex might be fibbing a bit about some things in the first place. some of what alex says is true though, so it's a big tangled web of half-truths, lies, fabrications, guesswork on alex's part, and master-level bullshitting. alex is a bit more honest with himself in his internal monologue, but even he doesn't have all the answers to what in the hell's going on, so expect some questions to go unanswered for now.

They talked for a long while after, and they eventually moved onto darker topics that Bruce wanted addressed before they began traveling together.

“How long have you been on Earth?”

“According to your calendar, I made planetfall in 1992, though it could have been earlier than that. I bailed off the ship I was stowing away on as soon as the atmosphere stopped burning the hull, and I landed in one of your planet’s numerous oceans. I was stuck swimming aimlessly for an unknown amount of time. I was very lost.

Your planet has far too much water, and your species can’t even drink any of it. There is irony in there, yes? I am not overly familiar with such concepts. Human languages can be so confusing. Things were so much simpler in the Void…” He sighed, the sound whistling out from both his mouth and dorsal tubes.

“What was it like, in the Void? Are the physics still the same as they are here?”

“As I said, it is best described as the space between spaces, but it is not truly empty. Many beings call the Void home, myself included. Regarding physics as you understand them, everything is jumbled. Two plus two may equal four, or seven, or negative three-hundred and ninety four, depending on all sorts of factors.”

“Like what?” Bruce asked eagerly, fascinated beyond belief.

“Oh, this and that. What angle your energies were at, what higher or lower sub-dimensions you were currently occupying, whether or not you were digesting something, things like that. Your human languages are so limited. No explanation I could give would be doing it justice. It all makes sense when you are born into it, I suppose.

Despite having physical forms, my kind can exist on multiple sub-planes of reality at once. Being here in your dimension has done something to my personal energies though, almost like they are trapped in my form. I cannot spread out the way I used to. I can still perform a limited form of physics manipulation upon myself, but simply forcing my way back into the Void is not currently possible for me.

My energies are not powerful enough to cut through the Veil that separates realities, which is why I am seeking out the pockets of Void Energies I can feel. In a few dozen aeons I might be strong enough, but certainly not now. The Sol system will be long gone before I manage to get back home that way. The Veil in this universe seems particularly thick, which is just my sort of luck.

It is why I am searching for the sources of the traces of powerful Void Energy. There are two on this planet, I can feel it, but I just can’t find them! If I can take the energy into myself, I might be able to force my way through the Veil, but I’d need to be sitting right on top of the sources to do that. Something is dampening them, which is why it is so difficult for me to track them.”

“Your kind live that long?!” Bruce exclaimed, shocked and trying to comprehend the sheer scale of something like that.

“Oh yes. Unless something kills us first, we do not die of old age or illness. Makes sense when you essentially  _ are _ an illness, I suppose.”

Bruce mulled that over. The mention of the whole ‘sapient disease’ thing brought up an important issue.

“I know you said you sort of had workarounds now, but just to clarify, you have to…eat people, to survive, for the most part?”

“Unfortunately yes. I have killed many humans, most of them deserved it, some of them did not. I regret only a scant few that were mostly accidents. They stumbled across me after seeing something compromising or while I was in the middle of another conflict and got caught in the crossfire. I have no desire to be hunted down like a rabid animal and exterminated. Even though the attempts would fail, it would be inconvenient and annoying, and more humans would definitely die in the ensuing chaos.

I do not go after innocents, given a choice. Having the memories of belonging to a loving family being shoved into your head tends to do that. I have seen both the best and worst of humanity, and I do not try and diminish the good when I can help it. There are plenty of human traffickers, sex slavers, and many other truly deplorable people that your world would be better off without.

I understand if it is too much for you to handle. My existence must be quite horrifying to you. I shall leave and never bother you again if that is what you wish,” Alex said, and Bruce was no expert in Xenomorph body language, but he could tell Alex was clearly nervous about his response.

“I think I’d be a pretty bad hypocrite if I judged you for killing horrible people, considering I have a tendency to lose control and go on mindless, murderous rampages,” Bruce said, smiling bitterly. His guilt complex over his condition reared its ugly head again.

His guilt-fest was cut short by a clawed fingertip booping him on the nose.

“No, none of that now! I lived with you for five months and I am not losing all that progress I made with you!” Alex shoved his crested head into Bruce’s face. His teeth were very large up close. “Not. Your. Fault.” He enunciated very slowly, as if Bruce was a small child.

“Of course it is! I lose control for two seconds and everything goes to hell! People die or get hurt because of me all the time!”

“Oh, my mistake, clearly the deranged madman hunting you across the globe and shooting at you in order to capture you and put you in a cage and torture you has absolutely nothing to do with causing any of your problems. Clearly the damage you inflict defending yourself and trying to get away from the threat is all on you, truly,” Alex deadpanned. “Bruce, you are the dumbest smart person I have ever met, and I have met a lot of people. I may not completely understand human ethics and morals, but generally if someone is provoked by being shot at and threatened with torture, when their medical condition causes them to lose rationality as they run for their life, they cannot truly be held responsible for any of the resulting damage, can they?”

Bruce grimaced and turned away, refusing to believe it. He was a monster, it was just the way things were. He’d only be free when he managed to eradicate it…or himself, failing that. Alex seemed to sense his line of thinking though, and continued.

“When someone is forcibly injected with mind-altering drugs against their will and they lose all rationality, is it their fault they lost the capability for rationality and destroyed things? I do not know everything about your condition, but it seems to me as if your higher thoughts become clouded and you are reduced to mostly instincts and primal decisions like fight or flight. You choose to fight only long enough to get away from the despicable men assaulting you, green skin or no. Yes, you have killed people, but it is not solely your fault. If the military would leave you alone, I doubt you would have nearly as many transformations, nor would they all be as violent or destructive.

I played and frolicked with your larger green self, and nothing bad happened at all. You did not try to kill me or truly cause me harm. We even had a short, friendly conversation. I believe you have far more control than you think.

For me, it is not a question of control. My instincts may influence me, but they do not rule me. I was completely in control of myself as I hunted down those who wronged me. I felt no remorse as I carved their black hearts from their chests and stole everything that made them who they are and used that knowledge to better hunt down and devour their fellows. Some of it I even enjoyed. I made it  _ hurt. _ I reveled in the destruction and fear I was causing, for I hated them all, truly. I tormented them as they tormented me. I made them jump at shadows and become so paranoid that they shot their own fellows dead with the slightest provocation. I burned their organization to the ground and felt nothing but satisfaction at my bloody revenge. Tell me, Bruce Banner, of the two of us, who is the real monster?”

“At least you got to make that choice! I don’t even get that much! I kill people without even meaning to! I’m dangerous! If Ross wasn’t planning on torturing me and using my body to make weapons, I’d probably let him capture me! At least locked up I wouldn’t actively be endangering everyone in a fifty-mile radius of me at every moment!”

“My viral nature means I endanger all life on this planet by simply existing. I sneeze wrong and all life on this planet would be gone in less than three months, tops. My new instincts compel me to do this virtually every second of every day, and yet, here we are.”

Bruce had no reply to that absolute bombshell, shocked speechless.

“I do believe that if this were a contest, I would have just won,” Alex said mildly.

“…Doesn’t make  _ me _ any less dangerous though. I need to get rid of it. I’m heading to Harlem to meet with a scientist that might be able to help cure me,” Bruce said quietly. “Earlier you said you wanted to stay with me. Well, misery loves company and all that, so you’re welcome to come along if you want? It’ll be dangerous though, what with my condition and Ross hunting me,” Bruce warned quietly, but some desperately lonely part of himself wanted Alex to come along, despite the inherent dangers. He hated himself for the selfish desire for company, but he was so tired of being alone and afraid all the time.

“You need not worry yourself over me; I am very hard to injure, never mind kill. I very much doubt Hulk is capable of vaporizing the planet.”

“Hulk?” Bruce asked, confused.

“It is what you called yourself when you were larger and green. I rather like the title. It sounds like it could be a superhero name: The Incredible Hulk,” Alex said, smiling faintly in a strange way, like he knew something Bruce didn’t.

Bruce scoffed and shook his head, “I’m no hero—incredible or otherwise.”

Alex smiled widely, exposing many glinting fangs. A long, black, pointed tongue emerging to lick at the front of a razor-sharp tooth, “What a coincidence. Neither am I.”

* * *

The conversation soon moved on to discuss the logistics of traveling together as a pair, and what they could do to evade Ross.

“I am capable of taking on just about any form you could imagine, and even a few you couldn’t,” Alex smirked, just before cycling through a good three dozen shapes, the first few consisting of what must have been alien fauna, followed by Earth animals of the rare and exotic variety, before transitioning into his Puppy form and a few much more common animals like birds and other pest animals like rats and raccoons, before settling on a shape Bruce was very familiar with.

Before him stood a perfect mirror of himself, with the only difference being the near-glowing ice-blue eyes. All of Alex’s forms had the same eyes, come to think of it.

He jerked back, startled, resisting the urge to rub his eyes in a double-take. “I thought you had to…Consume something to take its form?” He said, utterly fascinated as he studied the same face he saw in the mirror every day, minus the eyes.

“It makes the process much, much simpler, but I can also just go off of a visible model. It’s much more difficult, but I can do it. Having a DNA sample makes things much easier though, since all I really have to do then is copy blemishes and scars. Considering I lived with you for five months, I had plenty of time to study your form,” Alex said, mimicking Bruce’s voice perfectly, but it sounded a bit off. Alex spoke in a certain sort of cadence that was almost musical.

Then Alex’s face stretched into a very devious smile. Bruce didn’t think he had ever made that particular expression in his life. On Bruce’s features, the expression seemed extra conniving. “You are not particularly body-shy when you think you are alone,” Alex added, eyes shining with mischief.

It took him a couple of seconds to parse out what Alex was talking about, but when he did, he turned bright red and buried his face in his hands, groaning in mortification.

_ “Ohmygod! _ I thought you were a dog at the time!” He wailed. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him forever. He would never recover from the embarrassment. At least the worst Alex had seen was him walking around the apartment naked while he searched for cleanish clothes and not anything more…naughty.

Bruce’s condition made anything intimate a very ill-advised activity, even with just his own hands. Not being able to raise your heartrate without causing an absurd amount of collateral damage sucked in many ways, but the lack of sex was rather low on the list, all things considered. It’s not like Bruce had been getting a whole lot before the accident anyway.

“Oh, don’t fret too much—it’s not like I care whether you are clothed or not. I’m technically naked all the time. My ‘clothes’ are still part of my form, after all.”

“That doesn’t make it better! Actually, that makes it worse!” Bruce cried out, acting only marginally more distressed than he really felt. He was rather enjoying the banter, and Alex seemed the type to enjoy over-the-top dramatics.

Sure enough, Alex seemed inordinately pleased with himself over causing Bruce to fluster, despite probably knowing Bruce was acting at least a little.

He looked up and scrutinized Alex’s shapeshifted form again. “Can you not change your eye color? All your forms had blue eyes. It seems like an odd limitation…”

In response, Alex’s blue eyes swirled into a rich chocolate brown, mirroring Bruce’s real eyes in every way. He was now looking at his exact doppelgänger.

“I can change everything about my form, but I like keeping the eyes the same as a means to throw people off in terms of my true capabilities,” Alex’s arm came apart in a whirl of tendrils and reformed into a massive curved blade nearly as tall as he was. Bruce stared at Alex, still wearing his own face, with a massive alien appendage whose sole purpose was causing massive damage, and swallowed in understanding of just how deadly his new friend truly was.

“You’re not the only one who has government agents after them, but in my case my tails learned rather quickly to keep a minimum safe distance of several cities between them and me, lest they end up as a midnight snack. Their bosses only know that agents in my vicinity tend to go missing without warning, and they haven’t tried to approach me in years,” Alex shifted again, this time dropping Bruce’s form in favor of a tall, rather handsome man in a hoodie and an edgy leather jacket. His eyes shone ice-blue from beneath the deep hood. His arms were back to normal and he stuck them in the jacket’s pockets. “They never see me coming. No one ever does,” The man rumbled in the low, raspy voice he was coming to associate with Alex.

Bruce focused back on the problem at hand.  _ “Okay. _ Okay, that’s…a  _ thing. _ Yep. Moving right along, what shape would attract the least amount of attention? An animal shape would probably be best, something rather inconspicuous…” Bruce brought a hand to his mouth in thought.

In response, Alex shifted into a blue-eyed crow that flew up to land on his shoulder, and Bruce tried to not jerk in surprise too much. Alex opened his beak and a croakier version of his normal voice came out of it.

“Crows are extremely common in most places, so I could act as a scout for you without attracting undue attention, blue eyes or no. Corvids are also much more intelligent than most people think and they can be domesticated rather easily. While slightly unusual for a pet, it is not out of the question that you could have picked up a stray while on the road.”

“That might just work...wait, how can you fly? The law of the conservation of mass—”

Bruce had no idea how Alex managed to pull off sneering as a bird, but his friend had many talents, it seemed.

“Is beneath me. I pay it heed only when it benefits me. While my powers are greatly reduced due to your dimension’s weirdly rigid adherence to its physics, they are still capable of this much. While I can no longer fractal myself into sub-dimensions, I can still warp and fold space within myself, allowing me to store objects within myself and compress my form far beyond what your paltry  _ physics _ says I should be capable of,” Alex gave a derisive sniff, sticking his beak in the air in an exaggerated way, “I do what I want, when I want. Not even the inherent laws of your universe can stop me, though I am surprised you even asked. You do the same thing after all.”

“What are you talking about? I can’t do any of that!” Bruce said, very confused.

Alex looked equally confused. “Are you not aware of your own burgeoning abilities? You become much denser and heavier when you are green and that extra mass goes away when you return to normal. According to all your physics, such a thing should not be possible. Despite being quite weak and limited at the moment, you possess Void Energies of your own and utilize them when you shift. I was not being fanciful when I said it clung to your soul,” Alex explained patiently, still looking faintly surprised that he had to do such a thing at all.

_ “What?! _ No, I was not aware! Are the energies what cause the transformation?!” Bruce exclaimed, mind whirling.

“Do you mean to tell me that you were utilizing Void Energy without even knowing you were doing it, or that such energies existed at all? …I’m both extremely impressed and disappointed at the same time. Again, I reiterate: you are the dumbest smart person I have ever met. Did you never think to question where the extra mass came from?” Alex questioned incredulously.

Bruce just stared blankly for a bit before facepalming.

“Dumbest smart person, Bruce.”

* * *

Bruce and Alex had apparently ended up in Paraguay. Bruce got a ride from a generous farmer and got taken to the nearest civilized area while Alex followed from the air. Thankfully, Bruce was able to arrange for a trade of currency with a local headed to Brazil, so he was able to buy some essentials like food and a place to stay for the night.

The hostel was grungy and crowded, but nothing that either of them weren’t used to. It was better than sleeping on the streets at least. However, Alex refused to let Bruce spend any money buying him a bed he didn’t need, and the hostel didn’t allow animals.

Bruce said a temporary goodbye to Alex for the night, and they agreed to meet up in the morning later.

Bruce went to get some sleep, and Alex flew off in his crow form to hunt. In the morning, the local neighborhood would find itself a few thugs short.

* * *

Despite traveling together for months, Bruce still didn’t quite know what to make of his alien traveling companion. He apparently had to eat people to stay alive, to a certain extent at least, and the whole situation sounded awful to Bruce. Thankfully, Alex’s occasional snacks consisted of the true scum of the earth, and he didn’t have to Consume people that often besides. Much less than what Bruce had first assumed at any rate.

One body a month was enough as long as he wasn’t doing anything too strenuous or energy-intensive. He otherwise subsisted on electricity he pulled from outlets and the small amount of gamma radiation Bruce himself gave off, with the occasional bit of photosynthesis when they could get away with it without Alex being spotted doing it.

When they were camping out in the wilds between cities, Alex hunted game instead, bringing the carcasses back to share. Alex dressed and cleaned his kills with master-level precision using massive Edward-Scissorhands-esque Claws he could sprout from his arms, as long as the shape he was wearing was semi-compatible, at least. He didn’t tend to take human form very often, but when he did he favored the form of a rather handsome man in a hoodie and leather jacket combo, the same one he’d taken when they were first getting acquainted with each other.

It was a very interesting choice of form, Bruce thought; not inconspicuous in the slightest. The clothes he always,  _ always _ chose to wear were absolutely not suited to the sweltering weather. The man’s face was rather memorable too, with very Caucasian skin and short, wavy, jet-black hair.

He didn’t have any marks or freckles on his face, and his cheekbones were high and seemed aristocratic. His jawline was very well-defined, and overall the form would be considered very handsome by most.

There was just something about the face that seemed off, and Bruce thought it was probably the eyes. They were a predator’s eyes; gaze wary and hungry in a way that human-looking eyes distinctly shouldn’t be.

Bruce supposed he’d never noticed before because the eyes actually looked more at home peering out from an animal’s face. On a dog’s face, Alex’s eyes looked fine because dogs were actually predators by nature, but on a human form they just seemed wrong.

Thankfully it wasn’t super noticeable, but the deep shadows cast by the hood didn’t help. Alex was adamant that the hood and clothes of his preferred human face remain unchanged, though he refused to elaborate on why.

The appearance of the form, along with the obviously predatory way he prowled around gave off a distinctly inhuman air. Ironically, it was when Alex looked the most human that he seemed to blend in the least. Some of the time, at any rate.

When he was pretending to be someone else, everything that signaled that something was off disappeared utterly, and Bruce would have been completely fooled if he hadn’t already known the truth. That fact was honestly one of the most unnerving things Bruce had ever learned about his only friend.

It was like Alex flicked some kind of internal switch that made him seem just like any other human. Alex was a master-level actor, but only when he wanted to be, it seemed. It was like he became a totally different person, right down to unconscious little ticks and mannerisms that Bruce only barely noticed because he was looking quite hard for them.

Alex’s forms were as varied as you could imagine, and he didn’t seem to hold much of a preference when it came to human disguises, mostly just going with whatever he felt would attract the least attention at the time.

Young, old, fit, overweight, male, female, it was all there. Bruce had raised some concerns when he’d transformed into a young girl and questioned where the face had come from. Bruce couldn’t imagine someone that young would have done anything to cause Alex to eat her.

“Oh, she doesn’t exist, never did in the first place. This face is a composite that I created myself from multiple different DNA sources. The personality too. I would never harm a child, no matter what they’d seen. That’s just wrong.”

While that had been an immense relief for Bruce, he was interested in Alex’s unique view on morals and ethics. That had been a long and engaging conversation and Bruce had learned a lot about the way his alien friend logic-ed his way through things.

Kids were sacred and not to be touched, no matter the circumstance, and to a lesser extent, people Alex considered ‘innocent’. His definition of innocent seemed to vary a bit from what most people would consider, but not by too much.

As long as the person wasn’t harming other people or working against him, Alex would leave them be. People who Alex considered a threat to himself, or his secrets were fair game so long as they did something that proved they weren’t innocent.

For example, when Alex had first emerged from the sea, he’d been in what he considered his true form, a large formless mass of tentacles, tooth-filled maws, and enormous eyes. Bruce had seen it, and it was indeed quite terrifying. He’d been spotted by a fisherman, and Alex had asked the man some basic questions before turning into a deer and leaving.

While the man knew of Alex’s existence, he hadn’t harmed the man since he’d never done Alex any harm and had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Aside from his friend’s view on morals, there was just so much that was fascinating about him. Bruce’s scientific side was practically leaping up and down with giddiness at the picture Alex painted of the wider galaxy.

To think, he was one of the few people on Earth that knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that they were not alone in the universe.

He listened with rapt attention as Alex painted a picture of a golden realm filled with beings once worshipped as gods by ancient human civilizations. Alex was very good at telling stories and describing things. His voice was mesmerizing when he really got into it, almost sing-song in a strange way.

The ambiance of the dwindling campfire and the presence of the vast galaxy above their heads only added to the experience. Bruce would remember those moments until the day he died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how'd i do? i think it flows better than the first version, but that's just me. i wrote the darn thing and then read and re-read it like 7 times for proofreading purposes, so it all sounds a bit stale to me.
> 
> look forward to some serious shizznazz of the eldritch variety going down next chappie, it sort of sets up for a lot of stuff later and comes with a lot of hidden consequences we don't see till later, so yay! :) i had a lot of fun writing it. i love exploring the themes of transformation and the slow creeping changes that sneak up on you and you don't even realize how fucked shit is until it's way too late to do anything about it. 
> 
> comments clear my skin and water my crops. that is all


	6. Is it Gay to Kiss the Homies Goodnight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> time to buckle up bitches, because we're driving this train right off the rails! Canon? don't know the bitch. timeline? what's that? can you eat it? 
> 
> lol for real though, some serious shizznit goes down in this chappie that has some very far-reaching consequences for poor bruce that we won't see for a little bit. alex showcases some of his more inhuman thought processes and abilities, and bruce's weird-shit-o-meter is so wonky it might as well be a cryptid in its own right.
> 
> alex is flying by the seat of his non-existent pants but it seems to work out okay for the most part. remember though, both alex and bruce are unreliable narrators in their own ways, so reading between the lines is kinda necessary. bruce is going through some heavy-ass denial rn, and alex is mostly clueless about how his own powers work, and what normal friendship looks like, so.
> 
> also more wholesome bro bonding. just two bros chillin in a hottub, all up in each other's space because they're touch starved and only have each other but they're still not gay. its like platonic life partners sort of deal, kinda, except nobody else sees it that way. lol i love miscommunication and misconception tropes.

Alex was what some would call obsessed with music, and his prized possession was the old battered radio he’d taken with him from Bruce’s apartment. When they were alone, he could usually be found humming a tune or muttering lyrics to songs under his breath, no matter his shape. Bruce resolved to buy him a better radio or some headphones or something once money was less of an issue for the both of them.

He liked almost all genres and disliked only a handful, but he would listen to almost anything over existing in silence. Bruce quickly got used to his world not remaining silent for a second, even in his dreams.

Apparently, his and Alex’s ‘Void Energies’ interacted even unconsciously, with Alex’s soothing his and stabilizing them somehow. This had a variety of effects on his person, none of which he really minded. Yes, the fact that they were subconsciously influencing each other was slightly unnerving, but there wasn’t much either of them could do about it unless they decided to split up, which wasn’t happening.

Besides, it wasn’t like he minded the better sleep or overall greater sense of calm and peace. Yes, his dreams could be a trip sometimes, but they weren’t usually bad, and almost never turned into nightmares anymore.

As for Alex, he was apparently drawn to Bruce like a moth to a flame. He didn’t like going far and was just generally up in Bruce’s personal space a lot, not that he really minded. They were both a bit touch-starved, so they tended to engage in physical contact a lot, to the point that a few people had assumed that they were in some kind of relationship when Alex chose to go with a human shape.

Despite Alex identifying pretty firmly as male, he didn’t have a problem donning a female disguise, and it was always a bit of a trip when he did that weird personality shift thing and turned into a regular-acting young female at the drop of a hat.

Despite what people thought, they were just friends, and Bruce’s heart had been stolen by another for years, regardless. Betty was out of his reach forever, he knew that, but the heart wants what the heart wants. That, and he was pretty sure Alex barely even knew what romance actually was.

A few people had taken issue with their apparent relationship—though usually for different reasons depending on what face or gender Alex chose to disguise himself with that day—but they usually backed off when Alex decked them or their friends and they all went down like a sack of bricks, usually missing teeth, even when Alex chose to wear the face of a petite female. No matter his shape, Alex’s strength remained the same.

He usually did it because people tended to greatly underestimate small-statured women, and he found the irony to be hilarious. Despite everything though, he still preferred the hooded male form to any other human guise, which sometimes caused problems.

On one memorable occasion, someone had spat at them on the street, calling them a very derogatory name, and Alex had responded by sprouting fangs, hissing in a very-much-not-human fashion, and then mock-lunging at the guy, who ran off shrieking about vampires.

They had both nearly busted a gut laughing themselves to death over that.

That was not the only such incident though, and after a while, Alex took to traveling as a crow when they were in the more populated cities and towns. He sat on his shoulder, snuggled up to Bruce’s neck and whispered hilarious commentary about random passers-by in his ear as he preened Bruce’s short curly hair.

His friend could be scarily protective sometimes, and he tended to fuss over Bruce about stuff like making sure he was adequately fed and rested and other such things.

Alex had responded to his accusations of being a mother-hen by turning into a giant chicken and attempting to sit on him, crowing some catchy tune about how mothers knew best and how the world was filled with scary men and he was better off staying at home.

They had both nearly laughed themselves sick, and those months spent traveling with Alex were some of the best memories he could remember making in nearly half a decade.

* * *

If asked how he ended up in such a situation, Bruce wouldn’t be able to tell you. One minute he was struggling to haggle with a street vendor in broken Spanish and the next he was grabbed and shoved harshly into a comically stereotypical white van that was only missing the words ‘free candy’ spray-painted on the side.

At first Bruce had panicked, thinking it was the military who’d finally gotten the drop on him, but no. They were just human traffickers who recognized a struggling foreigner when they saw one.

He was swiftly ganged up on, tied up, and injected with something from a needle that he desperately hoped wasn’t loaded with diseases like HIV or Hepatitis alphabet soup.

Thanks to the increased metabolism from his accident, the shitty street drugs failed to put him under, but he was disoriented and groggy as all hell, which was the only thing keeping him from having an episode right that second.

The green sea was slamming itself against his mental dam, and he was struggling to hold it back. He was managing, but just barely.

“Aallex...heellp,” He slurred, totally out of it. The world was tilting and lurching and he felt so nauseous, like he’d been on too many carnival rides like the teacups.

One of the men mocked him, saying that no one would be coming to his rescue and then went on to describe all the various horrible things he’d do if Alex tried.

He poured all of his mental energy into not going green and ripping the fuckers to shreds, but he knew it was a losing battle.

Or it would have been, if the driver didn’t suddenly start screaming as the van swerved violently before pulling off the side of the road, narrowly missing impacting with an enormous cactus.

The other men all started yelling at the driver in rapid-fire Spanish that Bruce couldn’t quite keep up with, before the driver pulled out a large revolver and proceeded to shoot all his friends dead before blowing his own brains out.

Bruce was shocked speechless for a laundry list of reasons, not the least of which was the way he had some bits of human trafficker stuck to the side of his face, slowly congealing.

The back door of the van was ripped violently off with a shriek of tortured metal, revealing Alex, in his preferred human form, absolutely spitting mad, eyes a vicious blood-red with paper-thin slitted pupils and enormous, fuck-off Claws. Or maybe it was just the drugs? Everything _was_ quite hazy…

The second Alex caught sight of him, he surged forward, his form almost seeming to come apart into angry writhing tendrils in certain places. Bruce’s bonds were sliced to pieces by infinitely careful, razor sharp sword-fingers before they were dismissed in favor of more human-looking hands, albeit still with little hooked claws instead of fingernails.

He was carefully checked over, personal space and boundaries completely thrown out the window, even more so than normal, as Alex made sure he was still alive. He gently cleaned the mess off of Bruce’s face with a few stray tendrils as he snarled out questions in his strange, alien tongue that Bruce could somehow still understand.

In the beginning, listening to Alex speak it tended to give Bruce minor headaches, but after a few weeks of traveling together, it had stopped. His friend had the odd habit of speaking in a blend of human languages and his own bizarre native tongue when he wasn’t paying attention or was especially angry or agitated.

 **“Ymg' ah vulgtmnah’t? Ahf' Y' ah ai, ot c’lagh ymg' ah’nafl vulgtmnah’t. Ahf' mgepah fahff bosh’tets ymg' goka?”** _(Are you alright? What am I saying, of course you aren’t alright. What did those bastards give you?)_

“Dunno…’m gon…’m gonna…!” The angry green tide was rising up, and he tried to warn his only friend to get away before it was too late.

 **“Mg, ymg' ah nafl! Nwngluii llll ya, Gokar'luh’ehye!”** _(No, you are not! Eyes on me, Bruce!)_

Then, Bruce felt the oddest sensation. The green tide was covered with an oil slick and pushed back down, and instead of green, he drowned in inky blackness instead.

* * *

The strange place Bruce found himself in was vast and endlessly black, but it was not empty, despite its appearances. There was some kind of presence in the darkness with him. It curled around him and gently pressed in on him from all sides, enveloping him, like a massive ethereal hug.

The presence was enormous, bigger than anything Bruce had seen or felt before, like standing in front of Everest. It was solid, strong, and utterly unstoppable. And it was pissed right the fuck off, but not at him.

There was a strange sort of music coming from somewhere, more beautiful than anything he’d heard before. The presence was singing, but not in a way that was familiar to him.

It cradled him in its grip and gently prodded at his ethereal form, carefully folding something back away inside of him, some energy that seemed to be escaping him that he hadn’t noticed before.

There was so much of it, he couldn’t imagine any way it would all possibly fit, but somehow, it did. It was folded in ways that hurt to look at and gently tucked back inside of him, like someone taking a rumpled blanket and refolding it before putting it back in the cupboard.

He felt better, he realized—like some massive pressure had been eased. Not erased, certainly not, but it was soothed and eased and didn’t hurt nearly as much. He hadn’t even realized he was in pain until the pain was mostly gone.

The presence crooned and hummed and sang at him, and he suddenly realized what the presence was. It was Alex. This massive, utterly incomprehensible, alien mind was pressed up against his, basically snuggling him and holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Then the floodgates were opened and it was like a tidal wave of affection and concern smacked into him with all the subtlety of a drunken bull in a china shop. No, affection was too…small of a word to describe it. It was love, and care, and concern, and so, so much murderous anger on his behalf.

That anger would burn the world to ash and then some, and it was all for him. Not even his own rather substantial anger management problems could compare. It was like a candle next to a star. Yes, in the throes of an episode, he’d kill and destroy things that were in his way, but Alex’s anger…he’d make it _hurt._ He’d make it personal, he’d utterly dismantle them, in every way that would cause the most pain, the most anguish, the most despair, and only then would he kill them, and he’d make that part hurt too.

It was in that moment that Bruce realized how utterly alien and other his friend was. Alex didn’t do anything by halves. He would either go to the ends of the Earth for you, not give much of a damn about your existence, or he hated you with the fiery burning passion of a thousand suns, with not very many shades of in-between.

Bruce was so overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the past hour, that some part of him just went, _‘You know what? Fuck it. Fuck everything about my situation and the circumstances. Here is someone who actually gives a damn about me, so I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts,’_ and that was that.

He just sorta…relaxed into the enormous mind pressed up against his, one containing enough knowledge to rival a small country’s and enough secrets to topple the greatest nations. Bruce just leaned into it with his comparatively tiny, insignificant human mind, and let go.

* * *

Though Alex was halfway across town hunting, he felt the exact second Bruce’s energies jumped in panic before they went all…wobbly. They wavered and flickered in his mind’s eye like a guttering candle in the wind, injured and fragile.

He immediately abandoned the hunt to haul ass back to his friend, and was enraged to see a van peeling away from the scene of the crime, with Bruce’s struggling energies following its path perfectly.

Someone had kidnapped his friend and had likely drugged him to boot.

 _Everyone in that van besides Bruce has just lost breathing privileges._ ~~_(Slaughter them all, how DARE they hurt Bruce!)_ ~~

He tore across the skies after it, eventually shifting into a swifter bird in order to keep up. He shrieked in a rather un-birdlike manner and once he was within range, he shredded the driver’s mind like a sheaf of wet paper.

He forced the man to pull over and saw through his eyes. He puppeted the worthless human flesh-lump’s body into killing his fellows and then himself using the man’s own gun.

He wished he had made it more painful, more agonizing, because they _dared_ to lay a hand on his friend and thus they deserved to _suffer._

~~_(MINE! Mineminemine! Mine to cherish and protect! None shall harm him and live!)_ ~~

But Bruce’s safety came first, always.

So, he swiftly landed and ripped the back doors of the van off and freed his friend. His keen eyes immediately spotted various bruises and a prominent and sloppy needle mark in his neck that leaked a small amount of blood, and he wished he had the power to revive the dead, just so he could murder the men again.

~~_(Blood and fire and death! Make it HURT! Kill them all! They deserve nothing less!)_ ~~

He muttered words of concern while he checked his friend over and cleaned the small bits of gore off, and when Bruce started freaking out and going a bit green around the gills, Alex didn’t even think, he just did.

His friend’s energies were fluctuating in an irregular way, and the rising green hue across Bruce’s skin told him everything he needed to know. The energies were digging into his friend’s form, burrowing and forcing their way inside, causing Bruce’s form to grow and swell and change in order to accommodate it all. It seemed he’d finally figured out the cause of Bruce’s transformation. Now all that was left to do was figure out a way to fix it.

So, he surrounded Bruce’s frothing energies with his own and drew them into himself.

* * *

Alex suddenly found himself in a massive expanse, with his even more massive astral form hogging up almost all the space. Bruce’s own mind floated freely over in his own little corner of not-space, sort of panicking and flailing around.

Alex rushed over and caught him, gently, so gently, and held him steady in the strange space. Bruce’s energies were all over the place—just a completely chaotic, angry mess. Going off of what he had witnessed earlier, when Bruce transformed normally, the energies brutally forced their way inside his form in a way that looked very painful, and just plain wrong. The energies were meant to flow _with_ his form, not against it like they were doing.

Everything was so fucked up, like a kid that had just been tangling string together and calling it a knot, so Alex just began untangling the mess and smoothing everything out like he’d done a million times before, and then began tucking it all away inside Bruce where it belonged in the first place.

The only time the energy had really looked like it belonged was when Bruce was big and green, because at least then it was all inside of him. It was too big to fit in Bruce’s body normally, so he just folded everything neatly away where it belonged.

It still didn’t look quite right, but it was much better than it had been before, and Bruce looked like he felt better, so Alex couldn’t help but snuggle up like he always did. He was a very physically affectionate person and he enjoyed human contact, but Bruce’s was the only contact he could get that didn’t set his feeding instincts off something awful.

For whatever reason, he just didn’t register the same way regular humans did. ~~_(Didn’t feel like prey.)_ ~~ Alex suspected some weird Void-magic bullshit as the culprit. As he tried to calm Bruce’s mental representation by showering him with affection and care, he felt Bruce relax and lean into him. Success!

He crooned louder and Sang with happiness that his friend was doing better, but Bruce couldn’t stay in this place forever or he might get stuck, Alex knew, so he gently guided Bruce’s mind back to where it belonged. Though Alex woke up once Bruce was gone, the trance fogged his mind still, so he could be forgiven for what happened next.

* * *

Bruce gasped and shuddered, skin breaking out in a cold sweat. The feverish heat from Alex’s body helped keep him from going into shock, and his friend gently rubbed his back as he calmed down from _whateverthefuck_ that had been.

Bruce felt jittery and full to bursting of some restless energy that seemed to settle the more that time passed. His heart hammered in his chest, and he realized that it was _way_ past the threshold of the transformation, and while he felt weird as hell, he was in zero danger from having an episode.

“What…in the _fuck,_ was _that?!”_ Bruce gasped, still trying to process everything that had happened to him.

First he’d been kidnapped and drugged, then one of the men went completely insane and murdered everyone in the van besides Bruce, before killing himself, and then when he was about to have an episode, Alex had done _something,_ and he’d gone on some kind of cosmic acid trip or some BS like that, because none of what he experienced afterwards made even a teaspoon of sense.

“Shhh…everything’s **vulgtmnah’t** _(fine)._ I took care of the problem, you’re **mgepnnn** _(safe)_ now…” Alex murmured, still holding him. Bruce let him; he needed the grounding contact right now to keep from completely wigging out.

“Not what I meant! What was that… _place?_ It was…something else,” Bruce finished lamely, unable to find the proper words to describe it in his frazzled state.

“I don’t know, really. I only know that you were **mge’hye** _(struggling)_ and your **r’luhk** _(energies)_ were **yog epgoka’t** _(leaking out)_ and twisted up in knots, so **Y’ ehye’t h’** _(I fixed it),”_ Came the sleepy reply.

Alex seemed really out of it, and Bruce became concerned. His speech tended to blur into that otherworldly language of his only when he was supremely distracted, and although he sounded sleepy, Alex didn’t get tired, so something was definitely wrong.

Bruce peeled his alien companion off of him with only a token resistance from Alex and sucked in a startled breath upon meeting his eyes. Instead of their typical ice-blue, they were just shining pits of black, studded with pinpricks of light, as though Alex’s eyes had become windows to deep space.

“Alex, are you okay?! Your eyes!”

“Hmmm? Oh **ahmg** _(yes),_ I’m **ahehyee** **vulgtmnah’t** _(just fine)_ …your **r’luhk** _(energies)_ are much more **ehye’hnah** _(harmonious)_ now…your **Shog’nahem** _(Song [of Self/Identity/You])_ is very **shodogoth** _(beautiful)._ I am **lloigehye** _(glad)_ I was able to **hafh** _(help)_ it come into existence,” Alex said, subtly swaying in some sort of rhythm and humming in frequencies that Bruce could feel in his _teeth._

Something brushed up against him, but when he whipped around to look, nothing was there. It felt like someone was dragging just the barest wisps of cool silk across him, and he abruptly realized that while there was nothing physically there, something was reaching out and touching his being.

Some foreign feeling bubbled up inside of him and he rumbled out a response from somewhere deep in his chest, nearly infrasonic in frequency. His bones rattled with it, but not in a bad way.

The sounds he could just barely physically hear his friend making abruptly doubled in intensity and exploded in complexity. The sound rang out clear as a bell in his head, even though his supernaturally keen ears heard only the quietest, indistinct rumblings and humming.

It was a message, composed not with words, but raw Sound and Color that swam in the back of his mind. He knew that it was one of Alex’s mysterious Songs that he always talked about, and he was right. No human language had the correct terms to do it justice. It couldn’t be described, only experienced.

It was Alex’s Song of Self, representative of all that he was. It was an intensely personal thing and Bruce felt honored that his friend trusted him enough to let him hear it. It was a very emotionally intimate moment filled with understanding, acceptance, and brotherly love.

Bruce could do nothing but respond in kind. He had no real idea what in the fuck was happening or what he was doing, but it felt _right._ His Song of Self was composed of a strange _almost_ harmonious duality and was much different than Alex’s, but that was to be expected. They were two rather different people, after all.

Bruce’s Song rang out through the ether and his chest rumbled minutely with the barest physical signs that he was making noise in the traditional sense, although at such low frequencies that you’d need extremely specialized equipment to hear it.

A human should not be capable of making such sounds, ethereal or otherwise, but deep down, Bruce had always known that he stopped being human the second his world went green for the first time.

* * *

It took nearly two hours for them both to snap out of it and regain their balance, after which followed a very awkward and difficult conversation where Alex tried to explain what in the _fuck_ had happened.

Apparently, Alex had gone just a _bit_ ballistic once he’d figured out that Bruce had been kidnapped, and proceeded to chase the van down, use his powers in a truly horrifying way to shred the driver’s mind and control his body into acting as an extension of Alex’s own will to kill the others and then himself.

Alex felt not a single shred of remorse or guilt over his actions and Bruce decided to let it go. Alex was fiercely protective of him and would burn the world if it meant he was safe. He shuddered as he remembered the star-bright, incandescent rage that his friend was capable of.

Bruce would never win that argument, so he let it be and resolved to try and avoid situations that would cause Alex to go on a murder-spree to protect him. Easier said than done, unfortunately.

When he’d retrieved Bruce from the back of the van, he’d been losing the fight against his condition and was about to have an episode. Alex had responded by surrounding Bruce’s energies with his and dragging Bruce’s mind into his own.

Instead of immediately going stark-raving mad and then dying like a normal human would have, what happened instead was more like a Vulcan mind-meld or some other sci-fi shit like that, due to Bruce possessing the same kind of energies as Alex did, albeit an order of magnitude weaker.

Alex had used his much stronger Void Energies to apparently repair or fix Bruce’s own, which were not connected to him properly and damaged in some fashion. According to Alex, the problem would have eventually fixed itself as Bruce’s body better adapted to channeling and containing it, but Alex had dramatically sped up the process by intervening.

It would take time for everything to settle good and proper, but for the time being, it meant Bruce had a much, much better handle on his condition, much to his amazement and delight.

It was way easier to force the green tide into calm placidity now than it was before, which meant Bruce’s stress levels were doing a lot better.

The only downside that Bruce could see was that he apparently produced a bit more radiation than before but Alex solved that problem as well by eating it. His friend was a radiophage of unrivaled efficiency the likes of which Bruce had never even heard of.

The only caveat was the need for physical contact with the source of radiation since it wasn’t very strong and had a relatively short half-life, which was part of the reason Alex liked to hang all over Bruce whenever he could get away with it. It took a bit of getting used to—that is to say having Alex in his true form riding wrapped around his shoulders and down his back like some kind of clingy, living cape, but Alex’s body was very warm so he didn’t mind the arrangement at all, and it helped him stay more comfortable during cold nights spent out beneath the stars.

The only thing Bruce was a bit wary about was that the weird mind-meld experience seemed to have changed him in some fundamental way. He was worried about what that meant for his condition, and if it was even possible for him to be cured still.

He chose to believe he could, because anything else was unthinkable. He was barely keeping it together as it was, and knowing for a fact that his condition was permanent would catapult him into deep despair and depression. He hated the monster inside of him and wanted it gone, no matter what Alex’s feelings were on the matter.

Alex had reiterated many times that he ‘did not give a single, solitary fuck’ about Bruce’s condition and that Alex would ‘love him the same no matter what color or shape he was,’ his words. Bruce was touched by the easy acceptance, but that was easy for Alex to say when he had nothing to fear from an impossibly strong rage monster. Most people weren’t even a fraction as durable as he was.

Though Alex had started out speaking rather formally, he’d slowly seemed to adjust to better making use of Earth slang and euphemisms in his everyday speech. Bruce supposed that having a regular conversational partner would influence his way of speaking quite a bit after not really interacting with people much at all during his stay on Earth.

He still tended to completely ignore things like personal space and boundaries and was very blunt most of the time, but he also had a surprising capability to beat around the bush when it suited him, misdirecting and leading people on in conversations without them realizing it.

When he spoke with Bruce though, he tended towards bluntness and openly shared his feelings with zero hesitation or shame. He cared deeply about Bruce and often let him know it in a variety of ways, and if he hadn’t known for a fact that Alex was completely platonic in all his affections, he could have easily mistaken it for a strange sort of alien courtship.

No wonder people mistook them for a couple so often.

For crying out loud, the way his name translated in Alex’s native tongue, R’Lyehian, literally translated to ‘treasured one’. Turns out emotions and feelings about the person in question changed how names and titles came across in conversation in R’Lyehian, and so the word ‘Bruce’ translated to that when Alex used it. R’Lyehian was bizarre and shockingly complex, loaded with subtle nuance and could contain multiple hidden meanings within rather simple sentences.

It was like a linguist’s wildest dream and also their worst nightmare, all rolled into one language.

It was the fact that he could pick up on such nuance at all that had Bruce a bit concerned. The energy inside him was warping and shifting near-constantly, seeming to settle deeper into his bones with each passing day.

It was fine though, everything was fine. He’d manage to find a cure eventually. He would. Anything else was unthinkable, so he ignored his nagging suspicions.

Though secretly, part of Bruce didn’t want to give up the strange energy that resided in his soul. The sheer connection and emotional openness it allowed him was unlike anything else he’d ever experienced, and to suddenly lose it would be like losing a part of himself.

(He ignored that thought too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how bout them beans? hurting bruce is one way to get alex's attention, but not in a good way. anyone who hurts his bro loses breathing privilege. that's not gonna be a problem when they get picked up by SHIELD, nooooo, what makes you think that?
> 
> alex is gonna be subtly (and not so subtly) threatening to send everyone to the shadow realm if they so much as look at bruce wrong and poor, sweet bruce is gonna be completely oblivious, the precious innocent bean that he is.
> 
> everyones gonna be walking on eggshells, but not for the reason bruce thinks. ;D


	7. I be in Ur Internetz, Hakkin Ur Data (P.S. Your Spies Suck at Their Jobs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have another chappie! my muse was on fire yesterday and i wrote a shit-ton, so i figured i'd post another one
> 
> let me know what you think in the comments! i live for those ;D
> 
> (srsly plz comment i love reading them. as long as you're polite about it, even constructive criticism is welcome!)

Together, he and Bruce traveled up through Central America, trying to attract as little attention as possible. Despite being able to avoid Ross and his assorted butt-monkeys, Alex was waiting for the other shoe to drop in the form of the Culver University confrontation or some other similar clusterfuck.

Bruce was adamant in his search for a cure, often using the laptop to communicate with ‘Mr. Blue’ AKA Dr. Samuel Sterns, whenever they were in a place with an internet connection, which wasn’t as often as Alex would have preferred, to be honest.

The internet was a bit more primitive than he was used to, but he was originally from the Digital Age, where people spent more time  _ on _ the internet than off of it. He himself was Gen Z, just barely, so he lived and breathed in memes and references to various stupid shit that had yet to exist. Suppressing the urge to make such jokes and references was an almost physical ache at this point, and he could not fucking wait for the rest of the world to catch back up.

So, despite its less-developed state, whenever the duo were in a place that had public access to WiFi, Alex would trawl the web for current news in order to find out where in the MCU timeline he was exactly.

The Incredible Hulk movie was a bit of an odd duck in the MCU timeline, since it took place over a period of almost six years, with Hulk’s rampage in Harlem actually coming shortly after Iron Man became an established thing.

Thus, Alex was on the lookout for news of Tony Stark’s kidnapping. Nothing yet, but he was sure he’d hear some inkling about the man sooner or later.

As much as Alex wanted to spare one of his favorite Marvel characters from all the suffering and torment, it was a necessary evil. Iron Man was one of, if not  _ the _ biggest heavy-hitter in the MCU. His combined political, social, economic, and just power of the super variety were unmatched by any one of the MCU’s main cast.

Sure, other people were stronger than him physically or super-powers-wise, but no one could match the kind of sway he had with the public and political side of things.

If Iron Man was never born, the universe was fucked. Alex  _ needed _ to get the man on his side in the fight against Thanos, and for that to happen, two major events needed to occur, despite how much Alex would rather they not, mainly: Afghanistan and the Battle of New York.

Afghanistan because obvious reasons were obvious, and New York because he needed someone credible to see the absolutely fuck-off huge army Thanos had access to so that people would believe him when he went around telling everyone to arm themselves for war. The force Thanos sent to conquer the Earth was, like, a drop in the bucket compared to how much he could have thrown their way.

In canon, they’d only managed to send one nuke through the portal, but imagine how much damage they could have dealt to Thanos if they sent a swarm of Jericho missiles up the turbo-simp’s ass.

It wouldn’t be possible on the kind of event timeline Alex was looking at, but it was a nice dream. Explosions were cool, and a shit-ton of explosions in space would have been even cooler, especially if they weren’t aimed at him.

He was hoping that he might be able to convince Tony to re-open the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries for that very reason. The Earth needed to be ready to throw down with Thanos and his armies, and to do that, they needed to have better weapons than what was currently available.

So while he was waiting for plot things to happen, he traveled with Bruce and trawled the burgeoning World Wide Web. He had an inordinate amount of fun trolling the shit out of people while re-establishing his own mythos. Being a certified cryptid was cool, and so much fun.

He had no doubt SHIELDRA was keeping tabs on him and Bruce, so he had fun posting very vague allusions to the shadow organization using song lyrics buried in the code of the actual websites he posted on.

He had the skills of dozens of military-grade code monkeys in his head, so aside from maybe Tony Stark or SHIELDRA’s most secure servers, there wasn’t much he couldn’t hack into. If he had access to the right setup, Alex would bet good money that he’d even be able to hack into the Pentagon.

Thus, he had fun leaving references to things he had absolutely no right to know about in places only certain parties could find. He already knew what kinds of things would grab SHIELD’s attention thanks to having Consumed a few of their field agents who dared to get too nosy, so he wasn’t particularly worried about them.

* * *

Nick Fury read through the various reports that had been written about Bright Eyes. It was apparently a lot smarter than they’d first given it credit for, with a very thorough knowledge of how the internet worked and coding in general.

While they knew it could speak and even take a human form, they hadn’t known it was this intelligent, given its great preference for animal forms and loner behavior. It appeared to take great joy in taunting them by leaving strange messages buried beneath layers of obfuscation that took his best analysts days to puzzle out.

Currently it seemed to be traveling with Dr. Banner, which was alarming enough on its own, but the content of the messages as well as his field agents’ long-distance observations painted an interesting picture.

The creature seemed obsessed with two things: music and Dr. Banner. His agents were unsure as to what exactly happened, but apparently Dr. Banner had been kidnapped  _ very _ briefly, and Bright Eyes had rescued him after eliminating the men with extreme prejudice, judging by the amount of blood they found in the van.

Again, there were no bodies, but his agents were sure Bright Eyes was responsible. Those reports, along with the hidden messages left like breadcrumbs across various websites created a very interesting profile of Bright Eyes. Music and a single man were very interesting obsessions for an alien to have.

Upon inspecting the messages side-by-side, it was soon realized that all the messages seemed to be snippets of lyrics from various songs, but a few didn’t seem to have any definitive source. It seemed the creature not only enjoyed listening to music, but also writing it.

Fury scowled as he read over the lyrics to one of the two full songs the messages contained. Bright Eyes was taunting him specifically. There’s no way it didn’t know who he was, which in itself was vexing.

_ “Heard voices in the night, whispers of double lives. Sore back from where your knife went in. Bright eyes without a face, now that I’m on the case. I lay confidential; a deal with the devil. I won’t leave a trace. _

_ Watching every move you're makin’, I’ll keep my guard up. Lie awake and now you’ve crossed that line. I’m up all night, you’d better sleep with one eye open. _

_ The trust we made went broke, lost in mirrors and smoke. You laugh but now the joke’s…on you! Look closely where you step, look right and to the left. ‘Cause you got a sickness, and I got a witness you’ll never suspect. _

_ Watching every move you're makin’, I’ll keep my guard up. Lie awake and now you’ve crossed that line. I’m up all night, you’d better sleep with one eye open. _

_ Wait for when you’re gonna to trip, and when you do, I’ll make sure you admit you picked the wrong side now. I'm right behind, you better sleep with one eye open! _

_ You better keep one open! You better keep one open! _

_ Watching every move you're makin’, I’ll keep my guard up. Lie awake and now you’ve crossed that line. I’m up all night, you’d better sleep with one eye open. _

_ I'll wait for when you’re gonna to trip, and when you do, I’ll make sure you admit you picked the wrong side now. I'm right behind; you picked the wrong side now. I’m right behind; you picked the wrong side now. I’m right behind, you better sleep with one eye open!” _

Fury had a feeling that hindsight was going to be a bitch and that they’d only figure out what, if anything, the messages were truly trying to say, long after the fact. Fury read over the other messages they’d managed to find, and puzzled over them for a while.

_ “I have learned to see and hear everybody loud and clear, but the truth comes out in riddles that are safe enough to share.” _

_ “Don't call me a hero, I just want to let go. Got me feeling caged in, I can't hold the rage in. Your prison's not my home!” _

_ “Sometimes I think I push your buttons just for fun. Sometimes I think my kind of crazy has already been done. I’m a copy of a copy, everything I swore I’d not be. Yeah, the truth hurts, but it hasn't stung enough to stop me.” _

_ “For the animal soul is mine, and the world around will never hear your cries! An unholy crime, and now we both shall dine in Hell tonight!” _

_ “Beg me for mercy, admit you were toxic. You poisoned me just for another dollar in your pocket. Now I am the violence, I am the sickness. Won't accept your silence, beg me for forgiveness. You’ll never get free, lamb to the slaughter. What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?” _

_ “Does it get your blood boiling, does it make you see red? Do you wanna destroy it, does it get in your head? 'Cause it gets my blood boiling, and I'm coming unglued. It would hit you like poison: if you knew what I knew, you would be angry too.” _

_ “Heavy is the burden of the wise ones, when no one understands a word they say. The Jabberwock never bothered anyone, but nobody believes him to this day, and why should they?” _

Fury read over the most recently discovered message, this one also a full song, with a radically different sort of message than the others.

_ “Watch your back, watch your back! Watch your back, watch your back! We can counter their attack, hit 'em 'til the armor cracks! _

_ This could get a little sticky—how to win this battle could be tricky, but I know the best way: fall back—let me lead, you hold the line, and we'll bring them to their knees! Fists in the air if you're with me! They got us outnumbered one to fifty, but victory is ours ‘cause I got a strategy—you take the left, and the rest of you can follow me! This is my crew! _

_ Well this is my squad! _

_ This is my turf! _

_ Oh my gosh, look guys: we've got bigger fish to fry! Put your differences aside, ‘cause right now we're on the same side! _

_ Until the night falls, everyone, we’ll stay together 'til the battle is done. Watch your back, watch your back! Watch your back, watch your back! We can counter their attack, hit 'em 'til the armor cracks! Until the night falls, we're aligned—it doesn't mean that we're on the same side! Watch your back, watch your back! Watch your back, watch your back! Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast, they're too heavy to react! _

_ This situation's getting kinda heavy, hold your weapons tight, keep 'em steady! 'Cause if we stick together we can make it out alive! _

_ I'll cause a distraction, you attack them from the side—all my soldiers stand at the ready, we can cut 'em up like confetti! _

_ We'll hit 'em from the front, you counter from behind, don't forget the fate of Earth’s on the line! _

_ This is all-out war, they got us outnumbered! The way we clash is the sound of the thunder, and we are not going under, we will never run for cover! _

_ We battle for the victory and ride for each other! _

_ Until the night falls, everyone, we'll stay together 'til the battle is done! Back to back, back to back! Back to back, back to back! We can counter their attack, hit 'em 'til the armor cracks! Until the night falls, we're aligned—it doesn't mean that we're on the same side! Back to back, back to back! Back to back, back to back! Hit 'em hard and hit 'em fast, they're too heavy to react! _

_ Suit of armor, strong and true, make this metal bust a move! _

_ Until the night falls, you can trust, I’m gonna help you win this battle because I got your back, got your back! Got your back, got your back! All for one and that's a fact! _

_ Night fall, pitch black, light!” _

The last message was the only other full song that they’d found, so far at least. Unlike the first one which seemed to mostly be a taunting sort of warning, this one seemed to be about working together, even if the two parties weren’t exactly aligned. Interesting. Was Bright Eyes trying to tell them that it would be amicable to working together if shit got real? That boded well for Fury’s ultimate plans, and he tentatively entertained the idea of adding Bright Eyes to the potential Avengers roster, at least as a partial member.

It seemed to have some sort of calming influence on Dr. Banner, if the reports were to be believed. The man hadn’t had an incident in well over a year, which was much better than he’d been doing before the two started traveling together.

He suspected that if he invited Dr. Banner to join the Avengers Initiative, he and Bright Eyes would be a package deal. The two seemed basically joined at the hip, but that was alright, he could use that.

Unfortunately, definitive, concrete intel about Bright Eyes and its capabilities were quite scarce due to the agents assigned to it mysteriously going missing without a trace if they got anywhere close. Fury suspected they were dead, and the semi-threatening nature of the first song all but confirmed it.

But, how had it know it was being tailed? Fury had sent highly skilled agents, not ones fresh from training, so how had it known, let alone make them vanish so completely? No bodies were ever found, or even any evidence that there  _ was _ a body to begin with. They just seemed to vanish into thin fucking air, and it was driving him up the wall.

At least now they were able to keep tabs on both Bright Eyes and Dr. Banner at once, but that was it. Fury sighed heavily and retrieved a bottle of quality whiskey and a small glass. He was too sober for this shit.

* * *

Traveling through the US was never fun for Alex. He had to be constantly paranoid about security cameras potentially seeing something he didn’t want them to, and hunting was a lot more of a pain most of the time.

It was why he preferred to stay in less-developed countries, or at least in poorer neighborhoods, where a ruckus was less likely to be investigated by some curious asshole or cop.

But Bruce needed to go to New York in his search for a cure, so Alex went with him. He would follow Bruce into hell itself if it became necessary. Alex would honestly prefer hell over New York though. At least there he could hunt demons to his heart’s content and not have to worry so much about being seen.

Then he’d really be embracing the role of the Doomslayer, and he’d be even more effective at it, to boot. His Xenomorph form would look right at home, and Alex would have fun climbing to the top of the food chain again.

What was that saying? ‘Better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven’ or something like that, right? Alex agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. He didn’t think he even qualified for entry through the pearly gates, not that he’d ever be in a position to end up there, anyway.

He shook himself out of his musings as he followed above a public bus in his crow form, keeping a lookout for anything that might spell trouble.

It was both easier and harder to travel long distances in the good old US of A, with access to things like public transportation, but the higher levels of scrutiny and need for an ID made things difficult.

Bruce’s stress levels were certainly not improved by being back in his home country at any rate. He was constantly paranoid that Ross was lurking around every corner, and Alex had to nag at him constantly to get proper amounts of sleep and to relax even the smallest bit, usually resorting to dirty pool by Singing Bruce to sleep with a R’Lyehian lullaby.

Alex wouldn’t let anything happen to Bruce. Anyone tried anything, and he would discard his cover in an instant to rescue his friend, consequences be damned. The military was prepared for an enormous green rage monster, not an enormous shapeshifting eldritch monstrosity with almost the same amount of brute strength. He’d fuck them all up so bad, there would be ballads sung about it in fucking Asgard.

_ No one hurts my friends.  _ ~~_ (I’ll slaughter anyone who dares.) _ ~~

* * *

Bruce breathed in deeply as he tried to calm his internal sea of green energy. It thrummed through his bones, but he forced it back down. He had to somehow sneak back into the lab where everything had gone so spectacularly wrong and nick the lab data related to his accident.

It was imperative that he got the research, since Mr. Blue couldn’t properly formulate a cure without the precise measurements that had made his life go so completely tits-up.

“That’s the building we need to sneak into?” Alex asked quietly, his soft, raspy voice traveling out of his Puppy form. No passers-by were close enough to hear the whispered words, but Bruce’s supernaturally keen ears picked up on it easily.

He was sitting on a public bench situated on the university lawn, ostensibly people-watching with his loyal dog laying at his feet. Several people had stopped to pet Alex, and he had allowed the contact with typical dog-levels of enthusiasm, but for the most part the pair were left alone.

“Yeah, inside is the lab where everything happened. With any luck, the data will still be there on the back-up servers; the military might have taken everything away, but I’m not sure, so it’s worth checking out at least. The only problem is the security. The labs have some pretty specialized and expensive equipment in them, so there’s card-readers on the doors and passwords on all the computers that may have changed in the years I’ve been gone.  _ God, how are we going to do this?” _ Bruce asked himself, trying not to despair.

“Easy—we fucking cheat,” Came Alex’s easy response.

“What? How?”

“Shapeshifting super-strong virus monster,  _ hello? _ Where have you been this entire time? I’ll just transform into a rat or something and bore a hole right through the lab walls. You supply me with the passwords and failing those, I just hack my way in. The university computers are leagues better than what I normally have to work with, so it should be a piece of cake. I disguise myself as some random asshole and nothing will ever be traced back to you. Then, we can just mosey on over to Harlem to meet with your long-distance boyfriend or whatever, and go from there.”

Bruce sputtered, “He’s not—! Dr. Sterns is a colleague, nothing more! Get your mind out of the gutter!”

“Can’t. It’s got a nice little vacation home down there and a mailing address and everything,” Came Alex’s droll reply.

Bruce snorted and tried not to laugh. Alex’s humor was certainly…something.

“Well, alright, when do we do this?”

“No time like the present. Let’s head back to the motel to wait until later tonight when there will be less people about. It’s a college campus though, so there’s always going to be that one asshole in the labs at 2 AM but we can at least try and mitigate the chances of someone walking in on me fucking with the restricted data.”

* * *

Alex used tiny claws and teeth harder than the strongest steel to burrow through the brickwork of the lab as a mouse. He carefully made his way through layers of insulation, avoiding any wires or potentially load-bearing wooden beams.

He soon emerged from the side of the wall behind a set of shelves, knowing he had to make it quick. He’d already snuck into the security office and looped the security cam footage, and considering no one was in the labs and nothing was happening, the looping shouldn’t be detectable for a long while.

He crawled out from behind the shelf and took on the form of a tired-looking college student with an average face and skinny build, looking to all the world like someone just trying to squeeze in a few more hours of crunch time before an exam.

He chose a computer furthest away from and facing away from the door to make sure no one would be able to sneak up on him, and he got to work.

It took a few tries, but one of the many potential passwords Bruce had supplied him with eventually worked, and Alex was in. He tried not to poke around in Betty’s personal data too much while he searched. He enjoyed being creep _ y, _ not being a creep _ er.  _ Trust him, there was a  _ huge _ difference. He’d eaten enough of the latter to know better than anyone. 

He searched all through the computer’s files for the right data, but came up blank, just as he expected. Unlike how things played out in the movie, though, Alex had a few more tricks up his non-existent sleeves.

Alex put all his stolen coding knowledge to good work to comb through the computer to find the right data. Nothing on a computer was ever really deleted, only written over, and with enough skill, you could retrieve all kinds of hidden data that the average person wouldn’t even know existed.

The good news was Alex did eventually find the data, the bad news was that it had already been partially written over, and large chunks of the data were missing. It was useless for his purposes, but the other good news was that he already knew that the complete set of data had been copied over onto an external device, long before the military had attempted to scrub everything.

Thanks to Alex’s movie knowledge, he knew that Betty Ross had a copy of the lab data on a thumb-drive at her house. Or was it her boyfriend’s house? Eh, didn’t really matter.

He quickly closed everything he had open and began erasing his digital tracks before shifting back into a mouse and leaving the way he came, no trace of his presence left behind.

* * *

It hardly took him any time at all to fly back to the motel and land on the windowsill. Bruce quickly let him in and Alex shifted into his Mercer shape.

“Did you get it?” Bruce asked nervously, wringing his hands.

“Well no, the data was gone off of the lab computers, but I know where it’s at now.”

“Where?”

“It seems Betty Ross has a bit of a cunning side, since she copied the data off the computer days before the Thunderbitch ever got around to dealing with it. The data was apparently copied onto an external device via a physical connection, meaning if the data still exists, it’s on a thumb-drive somewhere, and I’d bet my ass that ‘somewhere’ is in Betty’s house. Or wherever she’s currently staying.”

“Betty’s house? Oh no…I can’t go there…I can’t drag her into this mess after everything…!” Bruce said shakily, looking about ready to cry.

“Well, you can’t go there maybe, but I have no such compunctions about a little B&E.”

“You can’t rob Betty!” Bruce protested, looking stricken.

“Oh relax, I’d only be taking the data-drive and literally nothing else. It’d be a cat-burglary, no one gets hurt and no one even has to know. I doubt she checks on the thing every day, but if it really bothers you, after this whole mess I can sneak back in and put it right back where I found it, and then it won’t even count as stealing. Merely…borrowing without permission,” Alex said with a smirk.

Bruce still looked apprehensive in the extreme, so Alex tried a different tactic.

“Look, if it really bothers you that much, I can simply ask her for it. I can approach her as a mutual acquaintance and explain that you sent me to retrieve it for you, which is all technically true. Thunderbolt isn’t after me, so he won’t be on the lookout. I’ll just be another one of his daughter’s colleagues—totally normal for us to talk to each other and collaborate on shit and all that jazz.”

Bruce looked relieved and nodded, “Yes! Let’s go with that option.”

“Then it’s settled. Betty probably heads to the university most days, so I can simply wait for her near the public entrance to the labs and catch her on her way to work, no harm, no foul.”

“When you’re talking to her…could you find out if she’s doing okay and let her know I’m still alive? I don’t know if she still cares o-or hates me or what…we haven’t talked in years…not after…”

“Of course I can Bruce. I very much doubt that she hates you, but I’ll give her a status update okay? Everything’s going to be fine. Thunderbolt doesn’t have a clue where we are,” Alex said gently, nudging Bruce with a friendly shoulder.

He simply nodded and leaned into the contact.

* * *

Betty Ross hummed idly to herself as she approached the entrance to her lab, ready for another day of work. She was slightly distracted, thinking about all kinds of things, her father’s odd behavior chief among them. She often thought of Bruce and if he was doing okay, but he’d never contacted her, likely afraid of dragging her into something dangerous.

Recently, her father had interrogated her more than usual, asking all kinds of questions about Bruce and his habits. She’d told him to take a hike. Despite everything that had happened between them, she still loved Bruce. She knew that them being together was an impossibility, but it didn’t stop her from loving him. Leonard was a fantastic boyfriend, but in the back of her mind, there were always her feelings for Bruce, and they both knew it.

“Excuse me, are you Dr. Betty Ross?” Came a rather low, raspy voice from behind her. She startled a bit and whirled around, and came face to face with a man that was average in every conceivable way, except for his vibrant ice-blue eyes. Something about those eyes made her uneasy, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.

“Oh! You startled me! But, um, yes, I’m Dr. Ross. How can I help you?” She asked, calming her racing heart.

“Well, not me specifically, but rather a mutual acquaintance of ours. Do you have an office or somewhere we can talk? The issue is a bit delicate and I’d prefer not to be overheard,” The man said calmly, scanning the lobby of the building with sharp, calculating eyes. Despite the similarities she could see between his and a soldier’s behavior, he didn’t seem like a soldier at all…more like a caged tiger if she was being honest.

This man was dangerous and she didn’t want to be alone with him.

“And who is this ‘mutual acquaintance’?” She asked warily.

The man blinked at her before tilting his head, much like a dog or bird did. It was unsettling.

“You’re very perceptive aren’t you? I can see why Bruce was so infatuated with you,” The man said, making her heart skip a beat.

“Bruce? What do you know about him? Are you with my father?”

The man curled his lip like he’d smelled something awful. You couldn’t fake that kind of absolute disdain.

“I’d literally rather fling myself into the sun than work with that prejudiced asshole. Er, no offense…” The man said rather awkwardly.

“None taken,” Betty replied easily. “Now, about Bruce…?” She prompted.

“Oh, yes. I’d rather not say too much out here, but suffice to say we’re good friends. He asked me to talk to you as a favor. He’s scared you’d hate him and refuse to talk to him or some such nonsense,” The man said while rolling his eyes and smiling fondly. “He’s doing fine by the way. I’ve been taking good care of him. Making sure he eats and doesn’t drown in guilt over shit that’s not his fault and stuff like that.”

“That does sound like him…” Betty mused. “But you could just have guessed that. Prove that you’ve been in contact with him. This wouldn’t be the first time my father’s pulled shit like this.”

“Wait, really? And here I thought I couldn’t hate the guy more. Your point is fair though…let’s see…” The man hummed oddly as he tried to think of something. “He once told me that you two participated in a clinical trial at Harvard that involved taking hallucinogenic drugs and they had to cancel the entire thing because Bruce had a mini-breakdown, broke down a door, and attacked one of the researchers because he hallucinated the memory of his mom being murdered by his dad. Bruce broke the guy’s nose and nearly choked the dude into unconsciousness before the others managed to pull him off.”

Betty breathed in deep at the hazy memories of that particular incident. Bruce had been a wreck for weeks after the fact, and they’d never told anyone what had happened. Not even her father knew that particular tidbit about her life. Until now, she didn’t think anybody besides the two of them did. Bruce must have trusted this man a lot to tell him that. “Alright, I believe you. Let’s head to my office so we can talk more.”

“Aces,” The man replied, eyes shining oddly under the fluorescent light of the lobby.

She quickly led him through the hallways and noted the fact that he made next to no noise on the tiled floor.

The door shut behind them and the real conversation could begin.

“You said you were friends with Bruce, what does he need? Is he nearby?” She asked, determined to help in whatever way she could.

“Yeah, he’s back in the US, searching for a cure to his…unfortunate anger management issues. I’ve been traveling with him for nearly a year and I’ve helped him out whenever I could, but we need your help with this part. See, he needs the lab data from the initial accident, but it’s been scrubbed from the regular lab servers. A deep dive I did indicated that someone copied the data onto an external drive days before the military ever got around to scrubbing the lab computers,” The man said, giving her a significant look. “I gotta give mad props to anyone ballsy enough to do that. The military’s not all bad, it just sucks that it always seems to be the assholes that end up in charge of everything.”

“What makes you think I have the data, let alone that I’d be able to hide such a thing from my father?” Betty hedged. “Anyone could have downloaded that data.”

“Suuuuure, and I’m the Queen of England,” The man drawled. “Look, I know you have it, but Bruce would go green and punt my ass to the moon if I did anything other than ask you nicely for it, so let’s cut the bullshit. You want something, I can tell. So, what’s the price for the data?” The man stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels, the picture of nonchalance.

She thought everything over before coming up with an answer. She finally had a bit of leverage, and she was going to use it.

“I’ll give Bruce the data, but  _ only _ Bruce. I want to talk to him, face to face,” Betty said, looking the man in his strangely vibrant eyes.

The man smiled, and was it just her imagination, or were his teeth a touch too sharp? When she gave it a second glance, nothing was amiss, but she could have  _ sworn… _

“Well, they say to never get in between a woman and what she wants, so who am I to refuse? We’re staying at a little motel on the edge of town at the moment, here’s the address…” The man grabbed a notepad and pen that had been sitting on her desk and scrawled out an address in very odd handwriting. It was angular and pointed, with the curves of the letters almost too perfect, in a strange way. Everything about the man was strange.

“Meet us there tonight, and Bruce will be waiting out front for you so you know this is legit. I don’t think I have to tell you that letting your father know what’s going on would be a  _ monumentally _ bad idea. I don’t take kindly to betrayals, and neither does Bruce.”

“Of course not! I won’t tell anyone, you have my word. The  _ last _ thing I want is for my father to get anywhere near Bruce…what happened was an accident due to unforeseen variables and no one deserves to be hunted down like a dog for that, least of all Bruce,” She replied, meaning every word.

“I’ll hold you to that. I understand the circumstances are suspicious though, so feel free to bring whatever you need to help you feel safe, so long as it isn’t another person,” The man said on his way out the door.

“Wait!” She exclaimed, remembering.

“What?”

“What’s your name? We never really introduced ourselves…”

The man smiled in a manner that seemed much softer and more genuine and replied, “You wouldn’t have a hope of pronouncing my real name correctly, but I mostly go by Alex these days. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Ross,” He said, before tilting his head slightly to the side again, “I can’t wait to see the look on Bruce’s face when I tell him you demanded a meeting. It’ll be hilarious.”

The man chuckled and smiled fondly before silently making his way out of her office and closing the door with a quiet click, despite the door being old and creaking most of the time.

Betty sat down at her desk as her mind raced. After nearly five whole years, she’d get to see Bruce again. She stared down at the address on her desk before scrambling for her office phone. No way in hell was she going to be able to focus on work today. She had to get home and gather all the data relevant to the accident that she’d illegally copied and squirreled away in her home. Getting it all without alerting Leonard was going to be tough.

Leonard…how was she going to explain this in a way that he would understand? She loved Leonard, but she also loved Bruce, albeit both in slightly different ways. If things had been different, she and Bruce would have probably been engaged already. She knew such a thing was impossible due to the accident and his subsequent fugitive status, but she’d never quite been able to let go of her feelings, and Leonard knew that too.

Would he feel threatened that she was going to meet up with him to give him the data? Probably…maybe it was best that she not tell him then? It’s not like anything would happen between them, and it wasn’t really his business who she chose to visit anyway.

Her and Bruce’s history was complicated, and she doubted her current boyfriend would understand the complexity of everything going on. Despite Leonard being a fantastic psychologist, he had a tendency to act on impulse regarding his own feelings.

She decided. She didn’t like hiding things from him, but she couldn’t risk him telling her father if he knew she was meeting with Bruce.

She grabbed her desk phone and let the secretary, Amelia, know that some personal business had come up suddenly and she needed to leave to go take care of it right away. She so rarely called off of work that Amelia would know it was serious.

She ended the call, grabbed the little slip of paper with the address on it, and gathered her things before making her way back to her car.

* * *

She tried her best to not seem suspicious, but she had to tell Leonard  _ something. _ She told him that she’d unexpectedly run into an old friend and was going to go catch up with them. They wouldn’t be in town long so she wanted to make the most of the opportunity.

Sneaking all the data into her car without him noticing was a pain. While a vast majority of the data was on the thumb-drive she’d hidden under a loose floorboard, there was a lot of other data that had only ever been written down on paper that she’d managed to photocopy before her father and his goons had confiscated everything.

She didn’t know exactly what data from the day of the accident or the overall project Bruce needed, so she just decided to bring all of it. She tried not to act like she was on pins and needles the entire time she was waiting, but it was difficult.

Once the meeting time started to roll around, she let Leonard know she’d be out for a bit and drove off.

In all the excitement, she failed to replace the loose board back exactly, and the missing data, along with her jittery behavior, tipped her psychologist boyfriend off to the fact that something was up.

* * *

Leonard tried not to jump to conclusions, but given the evidence, it was hard not to. Betty had acted jumpy and on edge the entire day, despite her best efforts to hide it. She claimed that she’d met up with an old friend and was going to go catch up with them that afternoon. While he doubted she was lying about that part, something didn’t add up.

He went looking for clues and stumbled across the slightly-rumpled slip of paper with an address scrawled on it in handwriting that wasn’t Betty’s laying on the top of the garbage in her office bin. He searched more, and discovered that the old box of papers that she always insisted on hiding on the rare occasions her father came to the house was gone, along with a floorboard that had been pried up and hastily replaced. There was a little space behind it, holding a few small items of sentimental value from Betty’s time with Dr. Banner, her ex.

The arrangement of the items and the thin layer of dust made it look like something had recently been taken from the cubbyhole.

He didn’t know much about Betty’s ex other than that the parting had been due to some kind of lab accident involving the military, Betty’s own father more specifically, and that Dr. Banner was a wanted man. He’d always known that Betty still held some sort of affection for the man and that her feelings had gone unresolved for years.

Leonard knew that until she reconciled whatever her feelings for the man were, there’d always be three of them in the relationship.

He tried to not feel too betrayed, but it was hard. He doubted Betty would run off with the man, but helping the fugitive was definitely on the table. Leonard didn’t want her to get in trouble for aiding and abetting a criminal, so he made a call, and hoped Betty wouldn’t hate him for it.

“General Ross, there’s something I felt you should know…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohhhhh shit, boi! cliffie b/c i'm evil >:D lol, there's not gonna be the university confrontation though. AU for the win! lots of stuff happening, and unfortunately i 'tell' and don't 'show' a ton of it, but i make up for the shortened 'The Incredible Hulk' section of this story with all the adventures alex and bruce get up to in the interim years between the hulk and the first avengers movie. there's loads of bonding and funny moments, with a touch of angst here and there, so look forward to that! i delve a lot more into the eldritch side of things and what it means for you when your BFF is from the otherworld. (consequencessssss yessssss >:D)
> 
> in order of appearance, the songs I used or pulled lyrics from are as follows:
> 
> One Eye Open, by Lola Blanc
> 
> Cheshire Kitten (We're All Mad Here), by SJ Tucker
> 
> ANTIHERO, by AViVA
> 
> Cynics and Critics, by Icon For Hire
> 
> Animal, by Disturbed
> 
> Blood//Water, by Grandson
> 
> Angry Too, by Lola Blanc
> 
> Cheshire Kitten (We're All Mad Here), by SJ Tucker (again)
> 
> Night Falls, from the Descendants 3 movie, i'm not sure who the exact artist is for this one, but needless to say, i don't own shit!
> 
> i changed a few lyrics, mostly stuff like 'we' to 'I' and a few other minor tweaks, but not much else


	8. Bruce, My Man, You Really Gotta Stop Volunteering for Experimental Medical Procedures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huge chappie! loads of things happen! i basically wrap up 'The Incredible Hulk' portion of the story here, but it's got a lot of things jammed into it, so hopefully you aren't too disappointed. consequences! consequences for everyone! yay! no but for real, a lot of things that happen in this chapter play a huge role in the rest of the story, so i'd pay attention to everything if i were you
> 
> plz comment, i worked really hard on this chappie! i love all you guys <3

“What do you mean she’s coming here?!” Bruce yelled, looking about ready to pass out.

“I mean: Betty Ross is coming here…to see you…to give you the data…and also because she wants to talk to you face-to-face. Calm down, she doesn’t hate you, you big idiot, stop worrying. You should have seen her face when your name came up. She misses you Bruce—a lot. I know almost nothing about romance, and even I could tell,” Alex smirked.

_ This is just too good. No wonder people love watching sitcoms so much. Drama is so much fun when it’s not YOUR drama. _

Bruce looked like he was simultaneously elated and crushed at the news. He heaved an enormous sigh and wrung his hands together.

“Things can’t ever go back to the way they were…even if I find a cure, General Ross will never stop hunting me, and I certainly won’t be able to get back together with her…God, this is all such a mess…I don’t want her to see me like this…” He said sadly.

“See you like what? You look fine to me,” Alex said, a bit confused.

“Like…everything! I’m a fugitive, she really shouldn’t be associating with me at all! What if the General finds out she contacted me and does something to her?!” Bruce rambled, the slightest green flush creeping up his neck as he paced and worked himself up into a tizzy.

Alex hummed soothingly in frequencies much too low for most creatures to detect, trying to project feelings of calm and reassurance. Judging by the way the green receded and Bruce hummed back, it seemed to work.

“If Thunderbitch tries anything, then I track the douchecanoe down and wipe him off the face of the Earth so he stops being a pain in everyone’s collective asses. Boom, no more General Thunderbitch, no more problems from that department.”

“Alex, we’ve talked about this, that would cause a whole host of other problems! No eating government officials!” Bruce sighed with exasperation, shaking his head fondly.

“But what if they’re secretly a Nazi planning world domination or something?” Alex whined, half-serious. HYDRA would have to be dealt with at some point after all.

“…Alright, but only if you find undeniable proof  _ and _ talk to me about it first!” Bruce said after a moment of mock consideration, playing along with what he thought was a joke.

“Yessss…!” Alex hissed delightedly, slightly edging into inhuman pitches. His eyes slitted with hunger and his mind was full of plans of the decidedly violent and gory variety.

_ Can’t wait to deal with HYDRA. It’ll be Blackwatch 2: Electric Boogaloo, now with 500% more rampant paranoia and ‘random’ bouts of murderous insanity! _

He glanced over and noticed the cheap digital clock rolling over to the next hour. “Hey, I think Betty will be here soon, we should head outside where she can see us,” Alex said, herding Bruce towards the door.

He shifted into the bland face he wore when he visited Betty so she wouldn’t freak out too bad at first. That would come later.

* * *

Betty anxiously drove her car into the crumbling parking lot of the run-down motel and looked around. Her heart jumped in her chest when she spotted a familiar head of curly brown hair.

She threw the car into the nearest available spot, parked, and flew out of the car to embrace him. He looked startled by her enthusiasm but returned the hug.

“Bruce! You’re okay! Oh thank God!” She withdrew from the hug to pin him with a look. “Don’t you dare drop off the face of the Earth ever again, do you hear me?! I was so worried about you! I had no idea if you were even still alive or where the hell you were or what you were doing! Send more than one letter every five years, would you?!” She huffed out in a big rush, all the words she never got to tell him before coming out at once.

Bruce looked shocked by her demands. “I’m sorry…I just didn’t want to get you in trouble or put you in danger...your father—“

“Can go take a long walk off a short pier! Bruce, I can take care of myself. I’ve been telling that asshole that we are not on speaking terms until he gives up his deranged obsession with you. What happened was an accident, and you needed help, not a manhunt,” Betty said firmly. She looked him in the eyes, “What happened at the lab that day was not your fault. Yes, I got hurt in all the chaos, but I healed just fine. Stop blaming yourself for that. But just in case your conscience needs to hear it: I forgive you.”

Bruce’s face cycled through many emotions, before it settled on something that she couldn’t quite identify. Tears welled up in his eyes and she surged forwards to hug him again.

He babbled out more unnecessary apologies for everything and sundry, and she just held him and kept repeating the same few words. Off to the side, she spotted the same plain-looking man from earlier—Alex, she recalled—and he was looking everywhere except at them, seemingly very invested in picking at his fingernails and scanning the tree line.

After Bruce had gotten a bit of a hold on himself, Alex came over and bumped shoulders with him in a friendly manner, and Bruce leaned into the contact.

“So, not to be  _ that guy _ or anything, buuuuut I told you so. She doesn’t hate you, you big dork. Now, not to break up the hug-fest or anything, but you brought the data right?” Alex said, smirking as he looked between them both.

“Oh! Um, yes, it’s just in my car, let me go get it. I wasn’t sure exactly what data you’d need, so I just brought all of it. Most of the actual hard numerical data is on the thumb-drive, but I have all the paper records on the project as well.”

“Really? That’s—that’s great! With that, we have a better chance at getting it right the first time!” Bruce said excitedly.

“I still think this is a horrible idea, but if it’s really what you want, I’ll help however I’m able,” Alex grumbled.

“Why do you think it’s a bad idea?” Betty asked curiously.

“It’s just a gut feeling.  _ Something _ is gonna happen. Something bad I’m sure. I might as well be there when it happens to help with the inevitable aftermath of this whole misadventure. Bruce is an adult and he can make his own decisions. All I can do is be a good friend and be there for him when it matters most,” Alex said, frowning slightly.

“Stop being so pessimistic! Even if it’s a small chance, I still have to try!” Bruce argued.

Alex just nodded but still looked unhappy. “I know…it’s just…”

“Just what?” Betty asked.

Alex huffed and turned away. “The last time I had a gut feeling like this, my whole life went to shit and I lost everything…I don’t want that to happen to you, Bruce. You deserve better, and God have mercy on whoever tries to put you in a lab and tear you apart to see what makes you tick, ‘cause I won’t have any,” He growled. As in, literally growled the words out like a dog, lip curling to expose teeth that definitely did not belong in a human mouth.

Betty’s eyes went wide. “Um…I’m not just seeing things, right? That was—you had—!”

Bruce elbowed his friend in the gut with what looked like a rather substantial amount of force, but Alex must have had abs of steel or something, because he didn’t so much as twitch. “Alex, cool it with the fangs!” Bruce hissed out in a strained whisper before turning to her. “Um, yeah, you weren’t seeing things, but it’s kind of a long story. You should grab the data and head inside with us. This isn’t the kind of stuff we want people overhearing,” Bruce hastened to explain.

Betty quickly grabbed the box of data from her car and followed them into the cheap motel room.

Once the door shut behind her, Alex’s entire body seemed to shiver before a wave of whirling red and black tendrils passed up through his body starting at his feet. The whole thing took less than a second, and left behind was a totally different man, whose only familiar features were the ice-blue eyes that watched her with a laser focus from underneath a deep hood, clearly gauging her reaction.

Betty was too surprised to do much more than inhale sharply and stare.

“Is…is anyone going to explain that?” She stuttered after a moment, eyes wide.

Alex snorted before he turned away and walked across the room to lean up against the far wall.

“My real name is **N’ghftog’mgn'ghft** _(Blacklight)_ but I go by Alex here on Earth. I fell to Earth around 1992 after escaping a torture dungeon generously called a lab. The only reason I was even in THAT whole mess was because I accidentally sleepwalked my way into a new dimension. I can shapeshift like nobody’s business, but this is my preferred human form. Congratulations on meeting your first interdimensional extraterrestrial. Don’t go spreading it around,” He said casually, like he was discussing some particularly boring weather.

“Uhhh…” Was Betty’s intelligent response.

She detected the sounds of a palm meeting a face, as well as a sigh of exasperation. “Eloquent as always, Alex,” Came Bruce’s reply.

A dangerous-looking smirk was sent his way, brimming with mischief and also a load of fangs. “Bite me, Bruce.”

Bruce snorted, “No thanks, I choose life.”

* * *

After he had his fun, Alex explained his situation a little better but focus was soon back on the immediate problem.

“Okay, so we have the goods. Now what?” Alex asked.

“I need to take pictures of everything that’s physical and send all the digitized data over to Dr. Sterns. Then we need to actually go to his lab and hope that he had enough time to crunch the numbers and formulate a cure. We can only pray that everything works out,” Bruce explained. “Betty, could I borrow your phone to take pictures? While it’s super great that we have access to all this, I wasn’t expecting the physical copies so I don’t have any way to digitize any of it.”

“Of course, here,” Betty said as she passed over the device.

Part of Alex was internally cringing  _ so hard _ at the sight of the outdated flip phone. He couldn’t wait until smartphones became a mainstream thing again. While they existed at this point, they were still sort of a niche ‘rich-person’ sort of deal.

He turned away from the sight of the outdated technology and Bruce taking pictures with it, and focused on the strange feeling that had settled in his gut ever since he left Betty’s office that morning.

His insides felt restless, shifting and dividing and rejoining in a chaotic mess that only he could make sense of. Something was wrong. He could feel it. He tried to ignore it at first, but there was some part of him that was just screaming at him in alarm. He snarled lowly and paced in front of the covered windows, flicking on his thermal vision and glaring at the walls.

“Alex, what’s the matter?” Bruce asked, looking up from the laptop where he was sending the data off.

“Something’s wrong, I just know it!” He snarled, continuing to pace. He stopped dead in his tracks in realization. Betty lived with Leonard Samson, who had called General Pain-In-The-Ass on Bruce in the movie. What was to say he hadn’t done the same now?

“Betty, are you absolutely,  _ positively _ sure you weren’t tailed? Does anyone know where you are right now?” Alex asked, deadly serious.

“I-I’m fairly certain I wasn’t followed,” Betty said, looking concerned. “B-but I had to tell Leonard  _ something! _ I just told him I was meeting up with a friend for lunch, I didn’t tell him it was you, or where we were going!”

Alex nodded in acknowledgement. She was telling the truth, so whatever was up wasn’t really her fault. He peeked through a corner of the curtains and spotted a few people ‘inconspicuously’ loitering around outside. His thermal vision showed him that their body temperatures were slightly elevated and when he focused on his vibration-sensing abilities, he felt that their heartbeats were quickened, which didn’t match up with their completely calm outward countenances.

A closer inspection revealed the concealed forms of some pretty substantial firepower. Either they were there for some high-profile drug deal, or Alex was right, and he didn’t believe in coincidences.

_ God, I hate being right sometimes. _

**“Gnaiigof'n ot fhal’enyth!”** _(Son of a bitch!)_ Alex cursed. “We’ve got company outside. They’re dressed in civvies, but their heartbeats are elevated and they’re armed. Betty, your boyfriend must have figured out that something was up and snitched to your dad. Remind me to stab him later, we need to get outta here right now!”

“Shit!” Bruce cursed, heartbeat skyrocketing. “What do we do? The door’s probably being watched as we speak, and I would bet my ass that Ross has snipers trained all over the place!”

Alex smiled widely, a wild look growing in his eyes. He’d just had a brilliant idea. He couldn’t wait to see the look on the Thunderbitch’s face. “Betty, how fond are you of your car?”

“…Alex, what are you planning?” Bruce asked warily.

Tendrils whirled over his form, and left behind was a perfect copy of Bruce, the only difference being the large sunglasses and baseball cap on his head.

Betty gasped, hands over her mouth in surprise.

“Something incredibly attention-grabbing. I’ve always wanted to participate in a car chase. The ol’ switcheroo. Thunderbolt’ll never see it coming. While I’m off being a complete badass and giving the General and his men the runaround, Bruce, you’ll sneak out the back window to make a stealthy getaway and make your way to Harlem. I’ll catch up later. I can sneak out first as a mouse and hotwire a car for you to use.”

“What about me?” Betty asked nervously.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen on your end…”

* * *

Alex smiled like a lunatic as he raced down the streets in Betty’s boring little beige Honda. He wove between cars and screeched around tight corners like something out of a Hollywood action flick.

The presence of gunfire and multiple army vehicles chasing after him only added to the absolutely amazing time he was having. He could faintly detect the sounds of a helicopter’s rotors off in the distance. He wondered if it was one of Ross’s or if it was a news chopper. God, he hoped it was a news chopper. No military cover-ups this time. He wanted the whole world to know what a lying sack of shit General Ross was. He was illegally organizing missions to chase Bruce all over the world, and he was somehow getting away with it, wasting millions of taxpayer dollars in the process.

That was one foolproof way to get people to start asking questions. Hit them right in the pocketbook.

People were bound to be curious as to why so many military vehicles were chasing after a single car, and why they thought it was a good idea to bring such heavy ordinance into a civilian setting. Seriously, he was being chased by Army Jeeps with mounted .50 cals and they were not sparing ammo by any stretch of the imagination.

_ Yeah, just ignore all the civilians everywhere, that won’t cause problems at all, no sir! Crossfire? What’s that? They’re just collateral damage, right? Assholes. _

Alex put all of his stolen skills to good use evading the Army. He had dozens of lives in his head that had a rather shocking amount of experience in getaway-driving when combined. That, along with all the memories of paramilitary Blackwatch goons populating his headspace, he knew exactly what sort of tactics Ross would be going for to try and cut him off or corner him, and Alex was using that to his advantage to make it look like it was a coincidence that he ended up trapped on a bridge.

Ross clearly hadn’t learned the same lessons that Alex had. As a very wise tortoise had once said:  _ there are no accidents. _

With the far side of the bridge blocked, Alex screeched to a halt in the middle and attempted to turn around, but Jeeps came up from the other side and blocked it as well. It took a considerable effort to look scared instead of smiling in satisfaction. Now facing the railing, Alex, still disguised as Bruce, white-knuckled the steering wheel. Everything was going according to plan. From one of the vehicles blocking the exits came the General himself. He held a megaphone and announced the terms of Bruce’s surrender.

“Give it up, Banner! Surrender now, we have you surrounded! Give yourself up quietly, there’s nowhere for you to go!” Ross shouted.

Alex, still wearing Bruce’s form, adopted a look of resigned resolve. He looked to the right and left, where more vehicles were arriving. A news chopper hovered in the distance, getting everything on tape.

He nodded as if defeated and made motions like he was going to get out of the car, removing his seatbelt and slightly opening the door. He looked up and saw the General’s self-satisfied face.

He watched with an inordinate amount of glee as the General’s face transformed from triumph, to shock, and then disbelief and anger as the car rocketed backwards to crash through the safety railing and plummet over the edge of the bridge, both of Alex’s middle fingers raised in defiance.

The car impacted the river with an enormous splash, the impact tearing the open door off the car and allowing water to flood in at an extremely fast rate. Alex heard bullets and tranqs making impact in and around the car as he threw himself out of it and into the river. He allowed himself to sink to the bottom, and under the cover of a massive silty cloud, he transformed into a river trout and swam away from all the excitement, mentally howling with laughter.

_ Get fucked, Ross! Play some chess or something every once in a while, you absolute jarhead. Outsmarting you was pathetically easy. _

He swam as a trout for many miles before shifting into the form of a duck and floating to the surface. The water was calmer here, and he took to the air not long after that. Once he was high enough in the air to where he wouldn’t be spotted, he shifted again into the form of a crow.

He flew back the way he came, and laughed internally at the sight of Ross’s men combing the area near the bridge, which had been cordoned off. Several trucks were parked by the waters edge as they tried to retrieve Betty’s totaled car from the river. With any luck, Ross would assume he died and he and Bruce could get some fucking peace and quiet.

Curious rubberneckers and a multitude of news vans were nearby as well.

_ Have fun answering all those questions, Thunderbitch. I’m sure your superiors will be ever-so-curious as to why you thought it was a good idea to open fire in a populated area. _

* * *

Bruce drove the stolen truck with a white-knuckled grip. Part of him was screaming to go back and make sure his friends were okay, but he knew he couldn’t.

He didn’t dare stop until the car ran out of gas while he was passing through a small logging town not far from his destination.

Betty had given him all her spare cash before he took off, leaving her behind at the motel. It was all part of Alex’s plan. It would be suspicious if Betty was known to have gone to meet him at the motel but she wasn’t found there once ‘Bruce’ had taken off alone in her car.

She had tried to give him her mother’s necklace to pawn off for some extra money, but he’d vehemently refused. He was touched by the gesture, but he’d given her a final kiss and told her to move on. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do, but Betty deserved to move on from her feelings for him and find real happiness and stability with someone who could actually provide those things for her. Judging by the bittersweet tears in her eyes, she knew it too.

They’d hugged one last time before Bruce snuck out the back window to drive away from the hastily abandoned motel parking lot. All of Ross’s men had left in pursuit of Alex, and he’d made a clean getaway.

He hated the fact that she was potentially being put in danger, but it was the best out of a bunch of shitty options. Despite their rocky relationship, the General wouldn’t let anything too bad happen to Betty, and Betty herself was one hell of a woman. She’d kick ass in her own way and walk away smelling like roses, leaving the General standing there with egg on his face.

Once Alex had made a suitable scene and left everyone wondering what the hell just happened with his own special brand of chaos, he’d head to Grayburn College to meet up with Bruce.

With any luck, General Ross would be dealing with the fallout of Alex’s dramatics and leave them both the hell alone for a while so Bruce could look for a cure in peace. He just hoped to God that Sterns would come through.

* * *

It was horrible to travel alone after being so used to Alex’s constant company. He was very careful to avoid being spotted by too many people, and was very frugal with his limited funds. He ended up having to bribe a fisherman to take him across the Hudson after running into a security checkpoint. He chanced a trip on the crowded subway and swiftly made his way to Grayburn College.

Trying not to seem too suspicious was difficult, but thankfully, he was able to catch Dr. Sterns in a quiet hallway.

“Mr. Blue?” He asked softly, trying not to fidget too much. Alex’s absence was grating on his already shot nerves and he forced the restless green sea into dormancy. His bones ached with it, and his chest rumbled with growls and calls too low to be detected by human ears, fruitlessly calling out into the ether for his friend.

Dr. Sterns swiftly turned around, face slack with surprise before it lit up in a manic smile. “Mr. Green?!” He asked excitedly.

“Shh! Not so loud, but yes. Is there somewhere we can talk where we won’t be overheard?”

“Of course, of course! Right this way!”

* * *

Alex flew through the sky above the city streets, taking in the sights of New York once more. He spotted quite a few differences from the New York from his memories and the one in front of him.

Off in the distance, he saw a half-built skyscraper coming into being. Stark Tower. There was no mistaking that iconic profile. It wasn’t much more than a skeleton of a building at the moment, but it was coming along.

Alex wondered if he’d ever get the privilege of wandering its halls. He hoped so. He entertained idle daydreams about bugging Tony in his labs to sleep and eat real food, or playing and interacting with all of Tony’s bots.

He wondered what JARVIS was like in real life. There were so many questions he wanted to ask the AI. How did he perceive the world? What did he find beautiful? What were his views on humanity as a whole? Maybe he’d get to find out some day.

He turned away and flew across Manhattan Island to locate Harlem. He zeroed in on Grayburn College and landed on a window ledge. He looked through various walls and window using his thermal vision, trying to locate Bruce.

While he didn’t find his friend, he did find the room with the disconcerting-looking chair with straps that he recognized from the film. Knowing that the pair would arrive in the room sooner or later, he settled in to wait, keeping a vigilant eye on his surroundings and scanning everything in order to make sure they didn’t get cornered again.

* * *

Bruce found Dr. Sterns’s excitement over his condition to be unnerving, but he grinned as best he could and bore it. He ignored the way it felt more like he was baring his teeth than truly smiling.

Sterns lead him through many hallways to a smaller, more cluttered lab near the edge of the university.

* * *

After some time, Sterns led Bruce through the entrance to the lab. Alex’s superb hearing allowed him to pick up on the conversation happening inside, despite the closed windows and all the background noise of the city.

“...it took some work, let me tell you, we’ve never tried to concentrate the trimethodine a tenth of what your peak exposure correlates with. That you survived an event like that to stand here and discuss this....it has something to do with Dr. Ross’s protein primer capacitating the cells of course, but it’s beyond my reckoning...we could study it for years!” Sterns said excitedly.

“But you think you’ve got the concentration right?” Bruce questioned.

“Well yes...on paper anyway. And my cell saturation will make sure we don’t miss any spots...but...even if we hit the levels right, I can’t promise this will cure you. It might only be an antidote to suppress the specific flare up. When you have one of these ‘spikes’... is the experience extreme?” Sterns asked somewhat distractedly as he busied himself around the lab space, getting various machines ready.

“You might say that,” Bruce said blandly.

“Well I can’t wait to see it! You know I must say...I wondered if you were real. And if you were I wondered what it would look like...a person with that much power lurking in them. Nothing could have surprised me more than this unassuming young man shaking my hand! ...I’d be remiss however if I didn’t point out that these concentrations carry extraordinary levels of toxicity. If we’re over by even a small integer, the residual could kill you. Will kill you,” Sterns warned.

“There’s a flip side to that...if we miss on the low side...if we induce me and it fails...it will be very dangerous for  _ you,”  _ Bruce said cautiously.

“I’ve always been more curious than cautious. It’s served me well so far but if that’s what kills this cat in the end...well, at least I’ll have peeked around a few corners,” Sterns gave a mysterious little smile that seemed sort of melancholy before he brightened back up with his previous intensity. “So then, we’re agreed?” He questioned. Bruce nodded. “Into the Glorious Unknown!” Sterns said passionately.

Alex’s anxiety began to rise. He could sense no military or otherwise problematic persons, but he once again had a bad feeling in whatever passed for his gut these days.

* * *

Some time passed as Sterns got everything ready. When Bruce started stripping down to some lycra shorts, Alex started cawing and pecking at the glass gently. Bruce’s brown eyes met his ice-blue and he exclaimed, “Oh! There you are Alex! Thank God you’re alright!”

Bruce went over and opened the screenless window and Alex stepped onto the proffered arm, weighing no more than a normal crow.

“Hey, hey, I can’t have a dirty animal in my lab! What…?” Sterns seemed to notice how well-behaved Alex was, sitting nice and pretty on Bruce’s arm. Sterns caught sight of Alex’s unusually-colored eyes.

“Oh, um, this is Alex...he’s my emotional support...crow,” Bruce said awkwardly. “He won’t cause any trouble, and he’s very clean,” Bruce said. Alex delicately shuffled up Bruce’s arm onto his shoulder. He cooed and began preening Bruce’s hair, his tiny feathered chest thrumming with happy and relieved calls that Bruce responded to, the tension almost visibly draining out of him. Sterns of course detected nothing, the sounds much too low for him to pick up on.

Alex stopped his fussing for a moment and stared right at Sterns, wondering if the man would say anything more.

“He does seem well-trained...and such vibrant eyes too. Where’d you get him?” Sterns asked curiously.

“Oh, um, Rocinha, Brazil. It’s more like he found me really. Just started following me around one day and refused to leave me alone. He’s been a very good friend to me on the road. My only friend really,” Bruce explained softly. He gently guided Alex onto a shelf so he could move around easier as he got ready for the procedure.

“My, you’ve come a long way just to see little old me!” Sterns said. “Well, as long as you can promise he won’t wreck anything or leave droppings anywhere, he can stay, I suppose. Strange for a wild crow to be so docile around people...” Sterns muttered, glancing at Alex’s bright eyes. Alex busied himself by cleaning his feathers and churring lowly at his friend.

Soon enough, Bruce was being strapped down on the table and hooked up to a bunch of IVs. Alex’s bad feeling intensified and he readied himself to interfere. His biomass writhed inside of him, readying itself for a split-second form change if it was needed.

The purple liquid that Sterns loaded into the machine gave off  _ all _ kinds of nasty vibes to Alex’s senses, but there was nothing he could do now. Bruce was adamant in his search for a cure, and Alex couldn’t do anything now without blowing his cover.

He could only pray to gods he didn’t believe in that this wasn’t about to have catastrophic consequences.

“Alright, everything’s set up! Are you ready?” Sterns asked. Bruce just nodded and accepted the bite guard Sterns offered him.

The man retrieved a dangerous-looking device, “Alright, here we go!”

Sterns then held the prongs of the device on opposite sides of Bruce’s head before electrocuting him with it, triggering the transformation. Green veins tore down Bruce’s body as his eyes shot open, practically blazing with green light.

Alex felt as the cells in his body began to metabolize the increased radiation output consistent with the Hulk’s presence, but something was wrong. The radiation was much higher than it was the last time Bruce transformed, and Alex worried about what that meant for the procedure.

_ What if what happened in the Mexican desert that day had bigger consequences than I thought? _

“My God…!” Sterns yelled in shock, stumbling back to fall on his ass against the machines.

Alex cawed loudly and flew down to stand atop the machine containing the antidote. Bruce’s energies were twisting and writhing and the transformation was progressing quite quickly. It looked agonizing to Alex. His heart went out to his friend of nearly a year. Bruce didn’t deserve any of the bullshit that was his life.

The popping of bones and joints was accompanied by an increasingly green flush across Bruce’s skin, but Sterns did nothing, frozen with shock and horror.

Alex screamed out, urgency apparent in his birdlike calls, but Sterns apparently couldn’t hear him over all the chaos.

The metal holding the chair up began to buckle under Bruce’s increasing mass. His head thrashed as green eyes darted around in their sockets.

Alex flew down and screamed right in Sterns’ face, which seemed to have the desired effect. The man leapt up and threw himself across the room to frantically hit a few buttons on the machine, and after giving it a good kick, the plungers finally engaged and delivered the purple antidote into Bruce’s system.

That was when everything seemed to go horribly wrong. Turns out the purple antidote felt wrong to Alex’s senses for a good reason. The second the liquid entered Bruce’s body, the man’s Void Energies fought back. The liquid was doing  _ something _ to them, something  _ bad. _

Bruce’s groans and growls abruptly transitioned into screeches and unearthly howls of pain. The energy was tearing itself apart trying to exorcise the purple poison from Bruce’s system. Alex stared in unadulterated horror at what he was witnessing.

_ Nononono, this isn’t supposed to happen! Why’s this happening?! Shitshitshit! I knew this was a terrible idea! _

Bruce’s body rapidly grew and shrunk, green and human-pink warring with each other as he cried out in utter agony.

Alex discarded his cover without a second thought, returning to his Shoggoth form in an instant, disregarding the machinery he smashed beneath his new bulk. Tendrils rushed out from his form to tear the IVs out to try and reduce how much of the poison got into Bruce’s system. Bruce’s bones were snapping and flesh was tearing as his body seemed to do its best to tear itself apart. Alex fought with everything he had to keep his friend from dying right in front of him.

Bruce’s energy field was erratic, spasming in what looked like pain as bits of it became wispy and seemed to vanish right before Alex’s eyes. Blood dripped from Bruce’s nose as he screamed out his torment for the world to hear.

It was like the ‘antidote’ had made Bruce allergic to his own energies, and his body was rejecting them. Alex kept frantically trying to fold them back inside, while they kept being repelled from his body like two magnets of the same polarity.

Alex keened out in horror and despair once it became clear that he was losing. All his power, and he couldn’t even keep his friend from dying right in front of him. No matter how much he fought and raged against what was happening, Bruce’s frantic struggles continued slowing. His friend’s heartbeat was erratic and it stuttered in his chest. Bruce was dying.

**“MG! Llll nilgh'ri r'luhhor, mg! Ymg' ah nafl mga’ehe l' epgoka ya! Nafl ahehye fahf! Nafl syhah! Ymg' ah yag’ ng Y' ah nafl ymg' mgah'ehye bug!”** _(NO! By all the gods, no! You do not get to leave me! Not like this! Not ever! You are mine and I am not letting you go!)_

He needed more power, his energies weren’t strong enough to fully contain Bruce’s as they were. Like a bucket that had several holes, Alex was merely slowing the inevitable. He dug deep within himself, where his very center was, and for the first time, truly tried shattering whatever barrier was keeping him from accessing most of his otherworldly power.

His friend was dying, and he was the only one who could do anything about it. He yanked and pulled, but his power resisted. It hurt. It hurt so bad, like he was trying to dislodge his own soul from his body.

It burned like hellfire, the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, but he persisted. Bruce was dying, and Alex was having  _ none of it! _

_ Come on, you stubborn bitch! Give! _

Sure enough, the barrier seemed to stretch before developing cracks, letting more trickles of eldritch power escape his being. Alex screamed out in pain, echoing the dying calls of his friend, but he persisted.

_ I refuse to be beaten by something as paltry as the laws of physics! I don’t care if I have to storm the gates of hell itself to get him back, he’s not going to die here, I refuse! You hear me, world?! I reject your reality and substitute my own! _

Alex screamed again and pulled with everything he had. His energies fought against it, bucking and trying to twist out of his mental grip, but Alex was not about to let his friend die. His own body could shut the fuck up and deal with it!

The barrier finally gave, and Alex’s power surged through him, stronger and more tangible than he’d ever felt it.

_ Hell yeah! Get fucked, reality! _

Alex, nearly mindless with fear for his friend, halfway delirious with pain, and brimming with newfound power, screamed out in the voices of thousands, **“N’gha ahor nafl llll nog ymg' fahf yah'or'nanah! Llll nilgh'ri cahf Y' ah, ymg' ephaiah'lw'nafh! Llll ya bthnknahor, N’gha ahor nafl ymg' ah'bthnk! ymg' ah yag’!”** _(Death shall not come for you this day! By all that I am, you will live! By my hand, Death shall not touch you! You are mine!)_

* * *

Though Alex was unaware of it, echoes of his power reverberated in his voice. Windows cracked and shattered for blocks around the epicenter of the event, the wood floors near his body buckled and warped, growing leaves and branches before withering and dying, only to sprout anew and die once more in a repeating cycle.

The metal structures in the lab corroded and rusted, the work of many decades happening in an instant. Computers caught flame as their screens shattered beyond repair. The very air near Alex’s eldritch body cracked and flaked away, becoming windows to the Otherworld.

And through it all, Sterns watched with huge, disbelieving eyes as visions from the deepest cosmos swam across his vision, showing him sights mortal men were never meant to see.

He saw Everything, and his mind buckled beneath the weight of it all. “B-beautiful…” He muttered. Sterns closed his eyes and passed from the world with a peaceful smile on his face. Though he had died in the end, he had gotten to see around the corner—every corner—and he was finally satisfied.

* * *

Alex surrounded Bruce’s fading energies with his own and forced the entire mass back into Bruce’s body. The energies of the two were still separate entities, but they touched each other, twining around each other like a ball of serpents. Alex held the mingling energies still and secure in his mental grip until the antidote had run its course and faded away.

Blood was streaked across Bruce’s skin from where his own bones had shoved their way through his flesh, and though no wounds remained behind, the evidence was still there. Bruce was barely hanging as it was, weakly wheezing for air as his tiny human chest fought to expand with every desperate gasp.

For Alex, the sight hit very close to home. He knew exactly what suffocating to death felt like.

_ You will not die here, not like this! I forbid it! _

Alex gently guided Bruce’s energies back into his dying body, carefully placing the streams of energy back into their metaphysical pathways, trying to make the paths as smooth as possible. It seemed to be working, and the more energy he guided back into its proper place, the easier Bruce seemed to breathe, much to Alex’s eternal relief.

Separating his own energies from the tangle was a little more difficult, but still very doable. His own energies felt strangely sore and raw from the experience, but when he let go of his power, the barrier did not reappear. His energy coiled and flowed much more freely through his form, and it felt like taking off a shirt that had been two sizes too small.

It felt liberating. It felt  _ right. _

Alex brought his attention back to the material world, and he blanched upon seeing the destruction he’d wrought. It seemed freeing his power had been a bit more dramatic than he thought.

He gazed around at the destroyed lab machines, the now-living wooden floors, the rusted metal beams, all of it.

His eyes once again landed on Bruce’s still form, and Alex surged forwards to cradle his friend in steady tendrils.

_ He’s alive, he’s breathing, he’s alive, he’s breathing— _

And so his thoughts went for some time until he calmed down enough to pull himself out of the spiral. Though he had survived, Bruce hadn’t come out of the experience unscathed. From underneath all the blood that he was gently cleaning off, dark lines like tiger stripes crossed over his form, looking almost like tan lines or henna tattoos. They were a darker brown than the rest of his skin, and perfectly mirrored across his form in a kind of symmetry you just didn’t see in anything natural.

They trailed across his entire body, tracing across his ribs and down his limbs in horizontal strokes. There was a thick band across his eyes, almost like a bandit’s mask.

Alex winced. There would be no covering all of it up. Bruce’s face had abruptly become very, very recognizable and memorable. Sneaking around would be so much more of a pain in the ass for him now. He drew his attention away from the thought. They could worry about that later, once they were somewhere safer.

He spotted the still, lifeless form of Sterns over in the corner, a trail of blood having leaked from his nose to drip down his chin, and Alex abruptly remembered that the man had replicated Bruce’s blood to try and recreate the original Hulk experiment. He sent Feeder Tendrils to Consume the body of the man, and he quickly reviewed Stern’s memories to find out where the man had been keeping all the samples and data related to Bruce or the accident.

From the man’s memories, he saw what the entire event had looked like to an outside observer, but he shoved those memories aside in favor of the knowledge he needed right that moment.

Turns out the man had kept all the data regarding Bruce on his own private computer and in his personal labs, which just so happened to be located directly below Alex’s current position.

His keen senses suddenly detected the faint sound of wailing police sirens.

_ Someone must have called the cops after hearing what a racket we made. Shit, I need to make this quick…according to Sterns’ memories, no one else should be in this part of the building at this time of day, so I guess it’s finally time to bust out the big guns! _

Alex curled protectively around Bruce’s unconscious form before coiling and compressing his biomass and unleashing his first-ever Devastator attack. Groundspike Graveyard was extremely effective at damaging heavily armored vehicles and Hives in-game, and it seemed to hold true for the real version as well.

Enormous hardened spikes of biomass erupted throughout the building, spearing holes through thick brick walls and metal support beams like they were made of cardboard. It felt like a punch to the gut for Alex, and used up a good chunk of his biomass, but the destruction was oh-so-glorious. The spikes retracted nearly as quickly as they formed, and the building creaked and groaned as rubble shifted and moved.

_ Fuck yeah, that’s awesome! Now, to get the hell out of here with Bruce without being spotted. The whole building’s coming down, so nothing from the labs will be salvageable. Suck a dick, Ross, you’ve been outsmarted. Not that it was particularly difficult, mind you, but still. Read a book or something, good lord. _

With Bruce’s unconscious body safely ensconced in Alex’s form, he wasted no time in smashing through the barely intact floors and escaping into the dark, filthy sewers that ran beneath the building.

He ignored the way the destroyed laboratory creaked and crumbled into a pile of rubble behind him as he made his way through the dank darkness of the New York sewer system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo...yeah. that's a thing now. you can bet your ass several parties are losing their shit right now, all for different reasons! :D
> 
> alex doesn't subscribe to your reality, he just enforces his own. peeps just gotta deal with the new reality-warping elder god on the block. this event has some major consequences for alex and his overall psyche that we won't see for a little while. alex just broke reality for this man, do you think he's gonna pull his punches when other shit starts happening, especially if it means bruce is in danger? hell no. codependency ftw! (but seriously, it's not healthy in a real life senario)
> 
> theres a reason a lot of stories about the gods portray them as capricious and selfish, only caring about what they deem important. alex isn't gonna be quite that bad, but...*shrug emoji* 
> 
> comment what you think below! i eagerly await your thoughts!


	9. Now Introducing Puberty 2! It's Like Regular Puberty but With More Monster, and I'm Not Talking About the Energy Drink!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behold, the chapter that inspired the monster bros tag! hooray for consequences! also bruce is a big sad for a little bit, but he gets better b/c i want my bois to be happy, ok?! yes, yes, i know i'm self indulgent trash, but its my fic so nya! >:P

It had been nearly three months, and Bruce _still_ hadn’t woken up. He’d been in a coma ever since that horrible day in Harlem and Alex was about ready to burn the world if it meant his friend got to wake up again. He’d tried everything he could think of, but nothing worked.

Bruce’s Void Energies were still fluctuating, but they slowly seemed to be reaching some kind of equilibrium.

Alex was worried about people coming after them both, and with Bruce being completely helpless, they were more vulnerable than ever. They needed a place where they’d be untouchable but that would still have everything they would need to survive, and preferably live at least somewhat comfortably.

His brilliant solution was to travel across the globe to Chernobyl. Compared to his original dimension or the one where he’d been reborn, the event had been much more severe in the MCU, with radiation levels being much higher and spread over a much larger area overall.

Traveling there had been a real bitch and had taken weeks, but it had been well worth it. Having to carry Bruce’s unconscious body around everywhere had severely limited the kinds of forms he could take. He’d swam across the Atlantic Ocean as a small whale before making his way into the Mediterranean Sea, traveling up into the Black Sea, and finally making landfall in Ukraine before he ran the rest of the way and raced across the land as a black-haired, blue-eyed horse, with Bruce either strapped securely to his back or held delicately inside of his form.

The security surrounding Chernobyl was basically nonexistent, consisting of only a tall fence liberally decorated with signs describing what kinds of imminent and horrible deaths awaited anyone stupid enough to try entering the area.

Of course, such things didn’t apply to a creature that fed on radiation or one that produced its own, so he and Bruce were totally fine.

After arriving, Alex had decided to get in touch with his viral roots and had built a Hive right on top of the reactor site. Large fleshy webs and growths expanded over the area, turning the available radiation into more biomass at a slow but steady rate, as well as taking advantage of the space available to photosynthesize.

Large rooms and hallways made of living tissue formed and somewhat followed the paths of the destroyed man-made building. Alex found it to be very soothing and enjoyed tweaking everything to his liking. The air was warm and just the slightest bit humid, his favorite kind of climate. It was the kind of environment where microorganisms thrived and multiplied, so it made sense that he found it so agreeable, really.

He even set up a rudimentary intelligence in the Hive. Nothing sentient, but more like a VI program that could perform certain actions. It would be extremely hostile to anyone not him or Bruce in the unlikely event of an intruder, and made most of the functions automatic so Alex didn’t have to micromanage everything constantly.

Bruce was set up in the most central chamber on a bed of grown animal furs and spider-silk sheets. Alex fussed over him nonstop, hoping against hope that he’d wake up someday soon. The change in location seemed to be helping a bit, with the energy inside his body settling down faster. Alex wondered if it was the radiation, or perhaps something else that was responsible for the improvement.

He’d only managed to tear himself away from Bruce long enough to hunt down a local thug and send an international letter through the post. It was addressed to one Betty Ross and it explained that they were both still alive and in hiding, and that the ‘cure’ hadn’t worked at all and instead made things worse. He apologized to Betty for the entire situation and hoped that she was doing well.

Since sending that letter though, Alex hadn’t left the safety of Chernobyl. He kept himself from going completely mad by hunting in the surrounding woodlands and scaring the piss out of one of the local scientists in charge of monitoring the place. He had gotten used to traveling the world with Bruce and always being on the move, and he found he rather missed it. He’d explored every bush and rock in his territory and felt only slightly guilty for taking out his frustrations on the unfortunate scientist.

The poor man never truly caught sight of him, only barest glimpses of something black with enormous teeth stalking him in the dark. Alex had focused his attentions on the most superstitious-seeming man, not allowing the others to catch so much as a glance of him. He often hung out outside their window as a squirrel or crow and listened to the arguments that ensued when the man tried to convince his friends that there was _something_ out in the woods.

The one good thing about Chernobyl was that he got to exist in whatever shape he damn well pleased whenever he wanted. Not like people could come in and cause him issues, and used that to his advantage when spying on the poor unfortunate souls he’d set his sights on.

He also littered many smaller caches of biomass around the place, but this time they functioned as traps and deterrents against any would-be attackers. Someone Alex didn’t like set one toe into his territory, and they’d get a chitin spike up the ass faster than they could blink.

And so the days passed, boring and uneventful…for a while, anyways.

* * *

Bruce felt groggy as all hell. And sore. And like something had crawled into his mouth and died. He forced himself upright and looked around. The surroundings were unfamiliar. He was laying in a bed made of animal furs that felt like Alex’s coat when he’d been Puppy, with off-white sheets made of some silky material.

He looked around, and when he finally registered what he was seeing, he blanched. The walls were red and black and looked organic, curving and arching overhead in a manner that reminded him uncomfortably of ribs.

Even more unsettling was the way the entire space seemed to pulse slowly. It was rhythmic, and his superior hearing could detect what sounded like fluid moving through the walls. Bruce swallowed nervously when he realized that wherever he was, the walls were alive.

Red bioluminescence dimly lit the surrounding area, but he found he could still see just fine in the rather low light, somehow. He was dressed in some kind of weird toga-gown thing made from the same silky material that the sheets had been.

The air was warm and just slightly moist, like a person’s breath, and it smelled of iron, ozone, decay, and something that reminded him of the distant stars, for some reason. It smelled like Alex.

Speaking of which, where was his friend?

His chest rumbled with a sub-sonic call, and mere seconds later, Alex in his Xenomorph form burst into the room. Bruce was nearly bowled over by all the emotions his friend was broadcasting, as well as physically when Alex swept him up in a hug, babbling happily the whole time.

 **“Ymg'ah kadish’drn! loige’mgep nilgh'ri vulgtmnah ph'nglui fahf shuggog! R’luhhor Y' yeog’lagln ymg’, Gokar'luh’ehye!”** _(You’re awake! Thank everything good in this world! Gods I missed you, Bruce!)_

“Missed me? Why? And where are we?” He asked, a sinking feeling in his gut.

“I missed you because you’ve been **fhtagn** _(asleep)_ for nearly three months, you absolute **bosh’tet** _(bastard)!_ That **leth'drn** _(stupid)_ cure nearly killed you!” Alex cried out, still holding him.

“Three _months?!”_

 **“Ahmg** _(Yes)!”_ He yelled, “You’re only **lw'nafh'drn** _(alive)_ because I broke the laws of your **leth'drn** _(stupid)_ reality to save your stubborn **kor’gep** _(ass)!”_

Bruce’s mind whirled with all kinds of questions, but for the moment he just held his friend. Once he felt a little more stable he asked, “Where are we? The walls…they’re breathing. This entire place smells like you. Smells like it _is_ you.”

Alex finally pulled back from the embrace but his smaller arms stayed gently gripping Bruce’s upper arms, like he was afraid that Bruce would disappear if he let go. His friend sucked in air he didn’t need through his dorsal tubes and began explaining, looking a little more calm. His energies were constantly brushing up against his own, seeming like he was checking them over.

“That’s because you’re essentially right. After I figured out that you were in a coma, I didn’t know what to do. I took you and ran. I needed to get somewhere safe where no one would be able to come after us, and I had a brilliant idea. I carted your unconscious ass across the seas and traipsed across most of Ukraine as a wild horse for weeks. Welcome to the heart of Chernobyl. After I arrived, I built a Hive so we’d have a protected shelter. I set up boobytraps all over the Exclusion Zone too, no one will be setting one toe in this place without my knowledge or say-so.”

“A…hive? What does that mean exactly? You didn’t like, reproduce or anything, right?” Bruce asked, looking around nervously.

“Ha! No, it’s just us. Do you have any idea how much of a literal and metaphorical headache creating hive members would be? A Hive is a living organic structure made out of my own cells. If I chose to, I could feel every part of its structure like it was my own body, because it essentially is, even if the cells are separated from my main form. I can mold and shape it to my liking and use it to defend against potential invaders. My kind has something similar to this, but nothing so complex,” Alex explained.

“That’s…okay. _Sure._ Alright, that’s fine, I’ll just need to take some time to wrap my head around everything…three _months?_ What _happened_ back at Grayburn exactly?”

 **“Fh’yek** _(Fuck)_ if I know for sure! The stupid cure made you allergic to your own energies and your own body was being torn apart trying to reject itself! I panicked and tried to keep it all inside your body where it belonged but it wasn’t really working. You were dying right in front of me…and it wasn’t painless either. You were shrieking, gods your _screams_ …it was so awful. I wasn’t about to let you die, so I…intervened. I don’t know what the exact consequences of my actions will turn out to be, but I’m not going to apologize for saving your life!”

“Alex, I’m not mad that you saved my life, but what did you _do?_ Your refusal to give me a straight answer is scaring me,” Bruce said, fear and uncertainty climbing up his throat.

“…I still don’t know exactly what I did…but it was big. My energies don’t really like being used externally very much at all. They’re tied irreversibly to my physical form…or they were, at any rate. When I saw that I wasn’t strong enough to contain your energies, I dug deep inside of myself and…broke something inside of myself. My energies unfolded and I was able to keep your own from leaking out into the ether. I forced them all back inside your body once the cure had seemingly run its course, but me using my energies on yours while you were dying seemingly had…consequences.”

“What kinds of consequences?” Bruce asked nervously.

“Though you possessed Void Energies, you had not been truly touched by the Void itself. That is no longer the case. Through me, your soul touched my connection to the vast Other, and was changed. The Void is…possessive. It claims and leaves its mark on anything that comes close enough to touch it, even through a proxy. I am not sure what consequences it had for you other than your new appearance, but—”

“Wait, _what?!_ New appearance?” Bruce asked frantically. He looked down at himself and finally noticed his new markings in the reddish lighting of the room. The tinted lighting didn’t let him make out variations in colors very well, but there appeared to be sections of his skin that were darker than the rest.

“What happened? Do you have a mirror? And some better lighting?” Bruce asked frantically, trying to keep calm. His body felt weird…tingly, sort of, and the markings that he could only barely see suddenly lit up a virulent green.

“Oh! They’ve never done that before…” Bruce heard Alex say, and he himself was shocked speechless.

“I’m…glowing? What?” Bruce tore his eyes away from the sight of his body being covered in neon-green tiger stripes. “Mirror. _Now.”_

Alex took him by the hand and led him through the curving, twisted passageways. A circular door covered in plates opened from the center like a camera aperture, letting daylight flood it. Alex led him through it and Bruce beheld the outside world, squinting his eyes against the onslaught of bright light. He idly noticed that once he was outside in the light, his markings stopped glowing.

It appeared to be mid-day, and Bruce beheld the dilapidated surroundings, the ground overgrown with weeds poking up through the cracks and broken bits of rubble strewn everywhere. Humanity hadn’t touched this place in many years.

“Wait here, I’ll go find a mirror,” Alex said before taking off in a fast lope down the crumbling street on all fours, his smaller arms held close to his chest to keep them out of the way.

He returned a few minutes later with a large mirror held above his head and cradled in several tendrils. “Here, it’s got a couple of cracks, but it should still be good.”

He held it upright against the floor, and Bruce beheld himself. Wrapped in a silky white toga, his darker brown stripes stood out against his otherwise lighter skin. There was a thick band across his eyes filling up the space under his eyebrows and beneath his lower eyelids, and a few stripes curled around his cheekbones from the sides, angled upwards and looking almost like warpaint.

The markings trailed down his arms, and he unwrapped the upper part of his garment to get a good look at his chest and back. There was a thick stripe running down his spine and on his limbs there were many smaller, thinner stripes that wrapped around the outsides of his arms and legs, leaving the undersides of his arms and insides of his thighs bare.

On his chest, they wrapped around from the stripe on his spine, looking to almost follow the pathways of his ribs, but they left the majority of his chest bare, except for two larger lines that traced the undersides of his pectoral muscles. More lines traced his collarbones and the tendons of his neck.

They even trailed down to his fingertips and toes. The entire fingertip up to the closest knuckle was the darker brown shade that apparently lit up in the dark, the same with his toes. His finger and toenails were noticeably darker as well.

There were markings that trailed from under his hairline to decorate his forehead and temples, with more lines that flowed out from under his jaw to come to points on his chin.

It looked like someone had painted him with tiger-themed warpaint. He looked feral and dangerous, and when he leaned closer to the mirror to inspect them, he noticed something else. His eyes were a bright gamma-green, even though he wasn’t transformed or in danger of transforming.

“Are my pupils…slitted?” He breathed in awe and terror, leaning closer to make absolutely sure.

“It looks like it, yeah…I’m so sorry, Bruce. I—”

“No. Don’t apologize. You saved my life…I was dying right in front of you, I can’t fault you for panicking and doing everything in your power to try and save me…I’ll—I’ll just have to learn to deal with it,” He said, trying to keep his voice from wavering too much, but his sub-harmonics betrayed his true feelings. The traitors.

Alex leaned the mirror against the side of the hive and enveloped him in another hug and Bruce just broke down, collapsing to his knees and sobbing in horror and shame.

Alex rocked him and keened out in frequencies he could now hear clear as day, attempting to comfort him but not quite knowing how. It didn’t matter. Bruce clung to him like he’d float away if he didn’t hold on, and let everything out. His fear, his anger, his uncertainty, his shame, and his self-loathing. Alex judged him for none of it and simply clung back twice as fiercely. They stayed like that for a long time.

* * *

Bruce was rather listless for a few days after the fact, often just wandering around Chernobyl aimlessly while Alex trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he chattered on about everything and sundry, trying to distract him. It didn’t really work, but Bruce appreciated the effort.

After about a week, Bruce finally put on his big boy pants and dealt with his feelings. Alex’s unwavering support definitely helped on that front—the alien was scarily good at helping him work through his feelings about his new state of being.

Bruce discovered several new things about himself in the first few weeks after waking up. All his senses were greatly enhanced, even more than before. His new eyes gave him superb low-light vision and his skin was tougher and more durable than before, especially on his feet, so he was able to wander around without shoes.

He was faster, stronger, and had way more stamina than before. His flexibility shot through the roof as well and he found himself able to do yoga poses he’d always thought impossible for his older body.

Alex joked that he was now part cat and thus qualified as a liquid. His reflexes were insane and he found that his eyes were drawn to movement much more than before. Given his new stripes and enhancements, Bruce started to wonder if he really had become part cat. That thought was revised after Bruce began meditating again to try and see if he could control the transformation.

* * *

“Okay, I think we’re all good to start. Remember, there’s no one around for miles and I’m right here as well. There’s no military and everything is peaceful. It is okay to transform if it happens. _You are not a monster,_ do you understand me, you massive **legeth'drn** _(idiot)?”_

“Yes, yes! I get it already! Just be on standby for when this inevitably goes horribly wrong,” Bruce griped, grimacing and clenching and unclenching his fists nervously.

Alex just snorted and laid down on his front some ways away, tucking his spindly limbs up underneath him like a lounging housecat. He used one of his smaller arms to support his head as he leaned on it, the picture of nonchalance.

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Ever since he’d woken up, it was less like there was a dam holding a green sea back and more like he was on some kind of floating platform above the endless green expanse, like he could just let go and fall into it at any moment. The thought was frightening but he worked through it. He practiced his deep breathing techniques and let all the tension drain out of him.

He braced himself and let go. He felt his muscles begin to swell, and he fell into the green sea and knew no more.

* * *

Alex watched was Bruce tried to trigger the transformation on purpose for the first time. The energies transitioned much smoother, but something still seemed off. More energy was being directed towards Bruce’s legs and lower back for some reason, and that reason was made clear when the change washed over Bruce. Alex was just thankful that the large spider-silk kilt he’d made Bruce held up under the change.

Flesh tore, bones snapped, and Bruce’s form twisted into new configuration. The Hulk groaned and opened vibrant green eyes, standing a couple of feet taller than normal on newly digitigrade legs, a slightly clubbed tail curling and swaying in the air behind him.

Small bone spurs grew from his elbows and the backs of his elevated heels. Overall, the shape of the legs looked slightly reminiscent of Blonsky’s Abomination form from the movie. The tail was new though.

“Hulk…feel weird…” The giant rumbled, trying to take a few steps forward and almost face planting on the ground. His new tail flailed a little and Hulk seemed to catch a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye, and he swiftly turned and twisted, trying to catch sight of it.

He spun around in a circle a few times chasing his own tail before he tripped clumsily over his new legs and fell forward, catching himself on his hands. With Hulk’s new proportions, being on all fours looked like it would be just as comfortable for his friend as standing upright.

Large green eyes blinked owlishly, and Alex spotted a nictitating membrane sliding sideways across startled eyes before retreating. Hulk reared back and stood upright again, looking down at his feet and tracing the stripes across his arms that had turned a darker green, standing out against emerald skin.

Alex swiftly stood and approached his friend. “Hey there, Hulk. You doing okay, man?”

Hulk looked up quickly, expression startled, as if he hadn’t noticed Alex standing there. He squinted and rumbled out an uncertain greeting, energies flaring a little with nervousness, causing his markings to light up, gamma-green and glowing brightly even in the daylight.

He grunted, startled again, and the glow dimmed but did not fade away completely. “Hulk…not sure. Feel strange. Legs not right…have tail now,” He grunted, clenching and unclenching his large green fists in a familiar gesture of nervousness. His shining eyes went to Alex’s own legs, and his brow furrowed in thought. “Puppy teach Hulk how walk with funny legs?”

Alex smiled fondly, a bit surprised by how much better Hulk handled sudden changes to his body than Bruce. Or were they the same person, merely with lowered inhibitions? He supposed he’d have all the time in the world to find out.

“Sure buddy, let’s get you up and running, shall we?” Alex said as he came to stand next to his big green friend. “It’s good to see you again. I was worried I’d hurt you somehow, back in Harlem.”

Alex decided to engage in a bit of behavior he tended to suppress around Bruce, fearing he’d make his friend uncomfortable. He butted his crested head against a green arm and churred lowly, pressing up against Hulk like an affectionate cat.

A large green hand hesitantly came up and gently stroked along his crested head and Alex melted into the contact. After the reveal in the jungle so long ago, Bruce didn’t pet him anymore, likely thinking it was too weird or something, but Alex had missed it.

He sighed happily and began explaining how to move around on legs that seemingly had more joints than human ones. They really didn’t, it was more like a modified ankle acting as an additional knee, and he did his best to explain what it felt like.

Either Hulk was just a quick learner or Alex was a better teacher than he thought, because it didn’t take very long for the pair to start running around and chasing each other through the abandoned city streets, shrieking with joy and letting out roars of excitement as they played.

* * *

“Okay, I’m not crazy, you can hear that too, right?” Jeffries asked nervously, fiddling with the dials on the device he was manning.

“You’d have to be fuckin’ deaf to miss that racket!” Charles snapped. “Are you sure that thing’s working right and it’s not just malfunctioning? Turn it off!”

Anabelle came running in from the hallway, her Scottish brogue thick due to her frazzled state. “Wut in tha’ fook is all tha’ noise aboot?!” She demanded.

“Hell if I know! It just started up all of the sudden!” Jeffries exclaimed, finally turning the right dial. The volume on the speaker was now at a much more manageable volume. Then his eyes went wide and he stage whispered, “Guys, what if it’s…you know…”

Charles scoffed, “Weird caterwauling or no, there isn’t a monster in the woods! For the last time, it was probably just a bear! It was dark and there was heavy tree cover, and that’s all it was.”

“Alright then wise guy, what’s making that horrid shrieking noise then? Cause last I checked, bears don’t scream like that!” Jeffries said waspishly, checking over all the weird-ass readings he was getting. “The frequencies it’s picking up on and amplifying are way outside the range of human hearing, both on the high and low spectrum, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Is thar a wey to un-fook it?” Anabelle asked. “Thar’s an awful lot o’ static, maybeh it’s jus’ not readin’ it right?”

“Yeah, here lemme just…there!” Jeffries announced with triumph, flipping a couple more switches and adjusting some settings on the frequency amplifier. It was an old and rather outdated piece of equipment, but it would withstand a bomb blast and had been left over at the station from its days as an earthquake monitoring site due to the machine’s immense weight and bulk.

Its sensors were still hooked up and functioning though, not that they really took readings from it anymore. What it did was detect really low or high frequency sounds to try and help with earthquake prediction. It had been an experimental piece of equipment back then, and it wasn’t even manufactured anymore.

Jeffries only knew how to work it at all because he liked tinkering and fucking around with it in his spare time. He had a lot of spare time considering nothing exciting ever happened out here in the boonies. He took radiation readings from the various sensors that had been set up all throughout the Exclusion Zone every couple of days, wrote the same bland report that basically boiled down to ‘nothing’s changed, it’s still irradiated to all fuck out there’ and moved on with his sad, boring existence.

Everything had been normal and soul-crushingly boring, when all of the sudden the machine had come shrieking to life, spitting out noise and the weirdest set of readings Jeffries had ever seen.

He cleaned up the audio output, and they could all hear the deeply unsettling reptilian clicking and low growls, punctuated by high shrieks and swooping bellows. It was a sort of ‘bwooo-ruk-uk-uk’ sort of sound. None of them had heard anything like it. It sounded like something out a monster-themed horror movie.

“Oh, wut the bludy fookin’ ‘ell is tha’?! Sounds like bludy Godzilla or summat!” Anabelle declared.

“Fuck, you’re right…what were those things in the movies called? The big bug-looking things with all the legs? MUTOs? Yeah, that sounds right…” Jeffries said.

“MUTO? What’s that? I never saw the movie. Not into that sort of thing,” Charles asked.

“It was an acronym, stood for Massive Unidentified Terrestrial Organism, I think. They made noises that sound eerily close to what we’re hearing now…fuck, I knew it wasn’t a bear! What if all the radiation mutated some random woodland animal?!”

“Mutations and radiation don’t work like that, idiot!” Charles said, dismissing all of Jeffries claims of seeing _something_ in the woods during one of their routine sample collections from the less-irradiated outskirts as his over-active imagination.

“Then you explain—!” Jeffries started to argue back but was interrupted by Anabelle.

“Guys!”

“What?!” The bickering males snapped in unison.

“Tha’ noises…they’ve stopped…” She said, looking at the device with trepidation.

Sure enough, the device had gone eerily quiet.

“Well that’s not fucking creepy at all,” Jeffries deadpanned. “And for the record, let it be known that I told you all that there was a monster in the woods, so when it inevitably comes to eat all of our faces, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

* * *

Bruce groaned as he came to. His _everything_ ached to high hell, especially his legs, for some reason.

“Urghh, I feel like shit…what happened?” Bruce asked, accepting a small cup of water from his friend. He was propped up in his bed in the hive, with Alex anxiously hovering around him. Ribbons of red light occasionally shot through the walls, like signals fired from nerves, temporarily providing more light.

The ambiance was decidedly eerie, but Bruce hardly noticed such things anymore. There was only so much creepy a person could take before they just stopped giving a shit, and Bruce had hit that limit a long time ago.

Over the past few weeks, he’d gotten much better at reading Alex’s sometimes alien body language while the alien was in his Xenomorph form, and Bruce was not liking what he was seeing.

“That’s your anxious worried face. Why are you making your anxious worried face? I didn’t hurt anyone did I?!” He asked, voice rising in panic.

“No! No, you didn’t hurt anyone! I’m just worried how you’ll take the news…” Alex started.

“What news?” Bruce demanded.

“Would you like the good news, the bad news, or the worse news?”

“…What’s the good news?” Bruce hedged.

“Well, the good news is that your energies seem to finally be stabilizing, for good this time. They’re settling into your body and anchoring themselves a lot better, so you’ll likely have more control over the transformations if you keep practicing,” Alex said, giving him a nervous smile full of fangs that would probably look like a threat display to someone unfamiliar with Alex’s expressions.

“…And the bad news?” Bruce asked with trepidation.

“I don’t know how to say this gently, so imma just come right out and say it: when you shifted into the Hulk, there were…additional changes. I don’t exactly wanna call them mutations, but…well. The worse news is that the changes didn’t exactly go away when you shifted back…”

“What?!” Bruce exclaimed with despair, mind whirling. He noticed that his lower half had been covered with the silk sheets of his bed, and given how much his legs and lower back were aching, he guessed it had something to do with those areas. So, despite how his body yelled at him, he threw the sheets off and beheld his legs…and tail.

“I…have a tail,” Was all he could manage at the moment, mind practically blank in shock.

“Yes. And your legs are now digitigrade. And you have spurs. Can’t forget those,” Alex said awkwardly.

Bruce reached down and touched the new appendage he had sprouting from his body, and felt the decidedly odd sensation of someone touching his spine in a way that shouldn’t be possible.

It was thicker at the base where it sprouted from his body, and was covered in its own pattern of brown tiger stripes and seemed to have toughened plates of either bone or stiff hide armoring the top and the slightly thicker bulbous end. It reminded him vaguely of an ankylosaurus tail. Except it was attached to him.

It was rather long, easily long enough for the clubbed end to rest on the floor, along with a few inches of tail if he were to stand upright. He’d have to learn how to hold it up slightly while walking if he didn’t want to end up dragging it on the ground.

Not to mention his legs. There was something disturbing about seeing legs that looked like they’d be more at home on a dinosaur in fleshy human skin tones. He belatedly noticed that his legs no longer possessed body hair, even though the rest of him did.

He breathed deeply, in and out, and tried to avoid having a full-blown panic attack.

“Do…do you think there’ll be more changes? _What if it never stops and I just keep mutating until I turn into an even worse monster…?”_ He whispered, fists clenched in the sheets, tears in his eyes.

Human arms came and embraced him, and Bruce turned, startled, to see that Alex had taken on the human form he preferred, but for the first time that Bruce could remember, the hood was down, fully exposing Alex’s face.

It looked rather odd without the shadows playing across it like they usually did.

Etched across his features were tan stripes that mimicked Bruce’s patterns, but did not copy them exactly. “Then I’ll be right here with you, telling the world to go fuck itself. I find it so hypocritical that humans place such emphasis on being special and unique, on being an individual, and yet when something new comes along, strange and wonderful, their first response is always fear. They try to eradicate what is other and different from them, all while espousing the need to be different and unique. If they label you a monster and fear you, then I say to hell with them all. If they can’t appreciate how wonderful you are, no matter your shape or color, then they don’t deserve you.”

Bruce tried not to sniffle like a seven year old, but he was pretty sure he failed. “Thanks Alex…that—it means a lot,” He managed to get out.

“Think nothing of it. I will always be here for you, come hell or high water, we’re in this together. If you insist on calling yourself a monster, well then, I’ll just have to turn that into a positive thing. If you’re a monster, then so am I. We can be monsters together.”

Bruce chuckled through the tears, touched by Alex’s words. He was so lucky to have a friend like him. Lord knows Bruce would have already tried to end it all by this point if he’d had to stick everything out alone.

“Monster Bros?” Bruce offered.

Alex laughed and smiled with a mouthful of razor teeth, nodding once and extending his hand for a fist bump. “Monster Bros.”

* * *

It took awhile for Bruce to get used to his new legs, as well as his tail. He tended to trip over the damn thing and smack it into things without meaning to, oftentimes breaking them due to his tail’s clubbed end. He’d brought up the topic of further changes again, once he’d gotten a better grip on himself mentally.

“Do you think there’ll be more changes? I can already tell something about my…energy is different. Everything about it seems easier to understand and I can sense your energy much better. It definitely seems…freer, if that makes any sense?”

“Yeah, it feels freer too. I’ve been wondering if it might be possible to do more things with it now that it’s not so restricted. As for the changes thing…I’m not sure. I can try and do a deep scan if you want?” Alex offered.

“What would that entail?”

“Well, all you’ll have to do is sit still while I try to meditate and see if I can find anything out.”

“Alright then, could we try it?”

“Sure, not like we have anything better to be doing with our time right now. Come sit in front of me and try to relax.”

* * *

Alex closed his eyes and looked out at the world with a different sort of vision altogether. Bruce’s energy field was right in front of him, and he used his own powers to gently prod and examine his friend.

It felt sort of invasive to be doing, but Bruce relaxed after a bit and let Alex get a closer look. The pathways of energy were perfectly set and smooth in certain places, but they seemed a bit more rough around the edges in others.

The areas felt almost unfinished in a way, so he guessed that those areas were the ones to look out for. There were quite a few, and Alex winced. Bruce probably wouldn’t be very pleased to hear it, but at least he’d know so they didn’t catch him off guard when they happened.

Alex wondered if the changes would only happen after Bruce transformed into Hulk again, or if they would progress while he was still mostly human-shaped regardless.

He drew his energies back in and shook the trance off.

* * *

Bruce sat still and tried not to fidget as Alex sat completely motionless across from him in his default human shape. Then, Alex’s markings lit up with a sinister red light, much like how Bruce’s own markings did.

Bruce felt something gently prodding at his being, and he only flinched a little before practicing his meditative breathing and relaxing. It was just Alex, and Alex would never hurt him.

It was a bit uncomfortable being scrutinized like this, but Bruce worked through it. Alex’s presence was so much larger than Bruce’s own, it was a little dizzying trying to comprehend all of it. Having the attention of something so powerful so utterly focused on you was very nerve-wracking, but it was just Alex—Bruce’s goofy, overprotective eldritch lump of a friend.

Alex would protect him against anyone that tried to do him harm. Alex meant companionship and warmth and comfort. Alex was safe. Alex would always be safe for Bruce.

Alex’s eyes opened and Bruce saw that they were the same star-studded black pits they’d been when he’d gotten almost-kidnapped that one time. The black swiftly drained away though, and Alex shook his head, seemingly to clear it of whatever fog shrouded it whenever he went into those deep trances.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Alex declared.

“Alright, what’s the bad news?” Bruce asked, bracing himself. “Am I gonna turn into a dinosaur or something, to match my legs and tail?”

“No, but there _will_ be more changes. The good news is that they’ll likely be relatively minor, and I know where on your body they’ll be happening,” Alex explained.

Bruce grimaced but nodded, “So, better than I feared but worse than I hoped. What have you got for me?”

“Okay, so your energy doesn’t seem completely settled, its especially unstable in your foot area, and to a lesser extent your hands—your fingers more specifically. My guess there is further structural changes to the bones in your feet, as well as claws of some kind on both your fingers and toes.”

Bruce nodded and flexed his fingers, gently pressing his fingertips against the fingernails of his opposite hand. “They do seem to be getting darker…what else?”

“There’s a lot of unsettled energy around your head—your ears and mouth, mainly. Probably fangs, I’m not totally sure about the ears though. Perhaps more mobility? Or maybe the shape changing a little?” Alex shook his head, “Too early to tell, really. Other than those few minor changes, I’m not seeing anything else. The real question is when and how they’ll happen. I’m not sure if they’ll only take effect after triggering a transformation or if they’ll progress regardless, so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Bruce sighed sadly. Alex shuffled over and shifted into his Puppy form before laying himself across Bruce’s lap.

“Pet me,” He demanded. “I know you think it’s weird, but I miss them, and no one is around to judge us, so make with the skritchies.”

Bruce huffed a laugh, “Your wish is my command,” He said in an exaggerated manner.

“Damn straight,” Alex quipped, and Bruce laughed again. He began complying with the demand, and Alex rumbled a loud growling purr as his tail slowly wagged.

* * *

Alex’s predictions turned out to be right, and the changes seemed to progress no matter if Bruce transformed or not, though it was discovered that the transformation process accelerated the speed of the changes.

His finger and toenails darkened until they seemed black, although the pair found out later that the claws were actually a green so deep they just looked black under most lighting.

The claws were anchored directly into his bones instead of just a nail bed, so they were very strong, enough that they could dig into solid stone when he tried hard enough.

His feet underwent more changes, and now they really resembled dinosaur feet more than anything else, with four main toes tipped with talons and a smaller inner claw that was still quite mobile. Bruce could actually use his feet to grab and climb things a lot easier than before, though it took him some practice to get walking and running down again.

His gait and center of gravity were shifted due to his new leg structure and addition of a tail, and he tended to sway a bit when he walked. It wasn’t a waddle, but rather something more like the way Alex walked: leaned forwards just the slightest bit and with a predatory sort of smoothness.

Growing fangs had been an ordeal in Bruce’s opinion. Instead of his teeth just sharpening like he’d been half-expecting, he’d gone through an accelerated period of tooth loss with the fangs growing in right after.

It made Bruce feel like a grade schooler, walking around with missing teeth, but thankfully it didn’t take long for the new teeth to take their place.

More surprisingly was the exact structure of the teeth. Unlike Alex’s fangs which were smooth and mostly conical in shape, Bruce’s looked more like shark teeth. Great White shark teeth to be more precise.

They were triangular and serrated and relatively uniform in shape and size, except for the ones that replaced his molars in the back. Those looked more like sharpened bicuspid teeth than true molars, but at least he still had some grinding teeth left at all.

Along with a change in dentition came a change in dietary preferences, with Bruce craving meat more often than he usually did, and a whole lot rarer, to boot. When Alex Brought back deer and other such creatures, he tended to just sear the meat a little on both sides before tucking in.

Alex of course just ate the thing raw, if he even bothered to use his mouth to eat with in the first place. The Consumption process was rather fascinating to watch, when it wasn’t being used on a live subject at any rate.

Bruce had gotten into the habit of gnawing on the antlers or bones when he’d been…teething, so to speak, and he didn’t really see a reason to stop. He was one of those people that tended to chew on the ends of their pens when they were deep in thought, and it wasn’t really all that different.

His new teeth and insane jaw strength tended to make short work of regular pens these days anyway, and ink didn’t taste good at all, so switching over to antlers and small bones was for the best, really.

His ears had been perhaps the strangest of the changes, with them becoming elongated and rather triangular, looking rather like those of a fantasy elf or similar creature. They became fully mobile, and Bruce found himself unconsciously using them to indicate emotion and interest. Alex thought they were adorable and kept suggesting piercings, which Bruce would scoff at and refuse every time.

The pair settled into a sort of rhythm over time, but it wasn’t without its hiccups.

* * *

It had been very hard at first, to get used to all the changes his body was going through.

_God, when I put it like that, it sounds like puberty. Monster puberty maybe._

Anyway, while it had been hard at first, Bruce had gradually grown used to them. He stopped tripping over his own tail every three feet and learned how to work with the changes instead of trying to pretend they didn’t exist.

Alex constantly reinforcing Bruce’s self-esteem and exuding his own special brand of general ‘fuck-the-world-and-its-shitty-opinions’ apathy helped a lot, and Bruce was slowly coming around to the idea that he wasn’t a monster, and that he had just as much right to exist on the Earth as the average Joe.

It had taken an even longer time—nearly a year in fact—to get a handle on his condition, but he’d finally achieved what he’d always imagined to be a pipe dream: full control.

* * *

Bruce retreated away from the cityscape to the forests to meditate. Alex was off gathering supplies from the nearest inhabited city, and Bruce tried to not feel too envious of his friend’s ability to shift his entire body and go completely unnoticed.

Bruce’s markings made him stick out like a sore thumb, and after experiencing the extra mutations, there was no way Bruce could walk through a populated area without people freaking the fuck out and attempting to kill him, and Bruce would rather avoid being even partly responsible for a crowd of frightened idiots committing suicide-by-Alex.

He found a small clearing and set out his meditation mat and changed into the extra-large garments Alex had made for his greener self. It resembled a sort of cross between a loincloth and a kilt, but it kept his bits covered when he ‘Hulked Out’ as Alex put it, and that was all he really needed them to do.

In order to wear it when he was smaller, it had to be wrapped around his waist in a specific way so that when he started growing larger, the ends that were tucked in came loose and allowed his expanding bulk to fill the bigger waistband.

He set out one of the small radios Alex had cobbled together and began fiddling with the dial to tune it to one of the local stations that still reached this far out. Bruce had gotten better at understanding Ukrainian, but most song lyrics still escaped him.

That was alright though, since the music was mostly there to fill the silence. He’d picked up Alex’s habit of having a source of music close at hand, even if it was just him humming a random, formless tune.

He sat down and began his breathing exercises, keeping himself calm as the green tide slowly came up to meet him. He’d made astounding progress over the last few months, more than he ever thought possible. He was even somewhat aware of himself while he was transformed now! It felt sort of like being super drunk, where his senses were screwy and he didn’t fully process what was happening, but he still kept his sense of self for the most part, and usually remembered what happened after the fact.

It still felt like a kick to the head when he woke up though, like a really bad hangover, which matched the drunken feeling of being Hulk. He was a little concerned what the repeated transformations were doing to his psyche though. He found he’d picked up a few non-human behaviors and mannerisms once he started making progress with controlling himself while he was green, but he couldn’t say for sure if it was due to the transformations or if it was just a consequence of only having Alex for company for months.

Alex had a tendency to hiss, chitter, and growl when expressing his emotions, and Bruce had picked up on some of that. Along with his new vocal ticks, he tended to act a bit more animalistic as well, often catching himself becoming protective over his food and other personal effects, and rubbing his shoulders and sometimes cheeks against things as if he was scent-marking them.

Alex did the same exact sorts of things though, so he supposed it had just taken him a long time to recognize that what he was doing wasn’t normal for a human. He snorted at the thought. It wasn’t like he was really human anymore, so what did it really matter?

With a flick of thought, his markings lit up green in a wavelike pattern, starting at the top of his head and traveling down his form before going dim and repeating the process. The waves followed his heartbeats for a while before Bruce began flashing and lighting up individual parts of his body in rapid succession.

He and Alex had figured out a way to sort of communicate using the flashes of their respective patterns, almost like Morse Code, but more complicated.

After that warm-up, Bruce got to work doing what he came out there to do in the first place. He turned his focus inward and took the green into himself, letting the sea fill up all the empty space inside of him and then some, until he was overflowing with it.

His muscles began to flush green and swell, but unlike all the other times, when he opened his eyes, his head was still clear. There was no green fog clouding his mind, just crisp, sharp thoughts. He blinked and looked down at himself.

_Yep, definitely Hulk right now…but I’m still just me?_

Bruce was confused for a moment before the gravity of what was happening smacked him upside the head.

_Holy shit, I’m me! There’s no confusion or dizziness or random irresistible impulses! I did it! Holy fuck, wait till Alex gets a load of this!_

Bruce smiled widely, baring all his shark teeth before he turned and took off through the underbrush, his bulk shoving plants out of his way wherever he stepped. He ran bipedal for a while before deciding to try out quadrupedal running. He’d done so many times before when he and Alex chased each other and played during previous Hulk Outs, so the transition came rather easily to Bruce as he leapt forward and hit the ground running on all fours, bounding between trees and over boulders with only a slight stumble near the beginning.

A roar tore its way from deep in his chest, happy and triumphant. Bruce felt powerful and free. He never had to worry about accidentally going on a rampage and hurting anyone ever again, and he was over the moon.

He came across an incredibly large tree, and he leapt upwards, his clawed fingers and toes digging into the thick bark and he climbed, the flexible thumbclaws on his feet allowed him to grip the trunk with ease.

He made his way as far up the tree as he dared and looked out across the irradiated, ruined city that had since become his home. He sat himself on a sturdy branch, tail coming to wrap around it to help keep him steady, and he just existed, pondering all of life’s mysteries.

He watched the sun begin to set, and he felt a familiar desire welling up in him. He easily gave in and rumbled out a song in his new impossibly deep bass voice. He didn’t know where the idea for the lyrics came from in his brain, but they came nonetheless.

> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you._
> 
> _Don't look back, just carry on,_
> 
> _And the shadows will never find you!_
> 
> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you._
> 
> _Don't look back, just carry on,_
> 
> _And the shadows will never find you!_
> 
> _Lost in the rock and roll,_
> 
> _Got lost in a promise of a love I’d never know._
> 
> _Shadows chased me far from home,_
> 
> _I remember when my heart was filled with gold._
> 
> _And you know I've been burned,_
> 
> _I've been burned, I've been burned!_
> 
> _You've seen me lose control,_
> 
> _It's not worth, it's not worth, it's not worth_
> 
> _My soul!_
> 
> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you._
> 
> _Don't look back, just carry on,_
> 
> _And the shadows will never find you!_
> 
> _Lost my faith and trust,_
> 
> _You and I know gold don't turn to rust._
> 
> _I still swear that we can reign,_
> 
> _Like the kings and queens of better yesterdays!_
> 
> _Don't you know I've been burned?_
> 
> _I've been burned, I've been burned!_
> 
> _You've seen me lose control,_
> 
> _It's not worth, it's not worth, it's not worth,_
> 
> _My soul!_
> 
> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you._
> 
> _Don't look back, just carry on,_
> 
> _And the shadows will never find you!_
> 
> _Where you gonna go, where you gonna go, where you gonna run to,_
> 
> _When you get to the edge of the night?_
> 
> _It’s time you face the sky!_
> 
> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you._
> 
> _Don't look back, just carry on,_
> 
> _And the shadows will never find you!_
> 
> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you._
> 
> _Don't look back, just carry on,_
> 
> _And the shadows will never find you!_
> 
> _Turn your face towards the sun,_
> 
> _Let the shadows fall behind you…!_

Bruce hadn’t even noticed when Alex joined him on the branch, but his friend somehow knew the lyrics to the song all the same, and they sang together. When the sun slipped behind the horizon, Bruce turned to his friend and smiled softly.

“Nice to have you with us, buddy. I knew you could do it,” Alex said softly, pressing up against his side.

Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly the branch beneath them creaked dangerously. The pair only had enough time to look at each other in apprehension before the branch gave way from underneath them, sending the pair crashing to the forest floor where they howled with laughter as they were buried beneath a small mountain of pine needles.

Climbing from the wooden, leafy debris, Bruce sent a sly look Alex’s way before taking off through the trees on all fours.

“Last one to the Hive is a rotten egg!” Bruce yelled out childishly, deeply enjoying Alex’s squawk of protest as the alien was left in Bruce’s dust.

* * *

After that fateful day, Bruce seemed to have become big and green by default, but he found he didn’t really mind it as much as now that he was fully in control of himself. Alex used his abilities to weave him more garments out of silk, usually just kilts or long togas though.

The cold didn’t bother him anyway, so why put forth all the extra time and resources making a whole Hulk-sized outfit? Not like anyone was around to judge his barefoot, bare-chested form, anyway.

Living in the Hive had also taken some getting used to, but it was the most secure place for miles and also the most structurally sound. While Alex could have built Bruce a more normal abode, he didn’t see the point in making Alex do all that extra work when he had a perfectly livable space already available, and one that could rearrange itself and the furniture to suit whatever size he was.

While being big and green was now his default, he found that he could still choose to be smaller and pinker, albeit not without some discomfort. His skin always felt two sizes too small, and his weaker body made him feel vulnerable. Alex feeding off the radiation Bruce personally produced helped ease the ache in his bones somewhat, but it never fully went away, unfortunately.

Despite everything, they were both starting to feel a little restless. With the whole reason for coming to Chernobyl in the first place pretty much under control, the only real problem now was that Chernobyl was starting to feel more like a cage keeping them in, rather than a safe haven keeping undesirables out. They’d both gotten rather used to life on the road, and you could only explore the same crumbling streets or random bit of forest before it lost its appeal.

They’d also had a few rather close calls with the local scientists in charge of monitoring the place. One of them was convinced that there were monsters living in the forests, and, well, he wasn’t exactly _wrong._

It was funny to listen to him try and convince his two more skeptical friends and fail repeatedly, but Bruce guessed that they must have pushed the poor man too far when Alex sensed him wandering towards the inner city. The pair had gone out together to investigate before deciding whether or not to engage the defenses, and they found the man meandering around the ruins in a radiation-proof suit, holding a camera and muttering to himself.

Alex and Bruce watched cautiously from the shadows, debating how to deal with the problem of their unwanted guest.

* * *

“Do you think we could scare him off somehow without being spotted?” Bruce asked, peering from around a corner to watch the man slowly make his way through the city streets.

“Maybe, but with the way he’s muttering to himself, I doubt he’s going to fuck off until he gets proof of our existence to show to his friends. Stubborn **bosh’tet.”**

“I told you to stop messing with him!” Bruce sighed in frustration.

“Hey, you enjoyed fucking with him too, don’t act like you’re totally innocent!” Alex shot back.

“It was only, like, twice,” Bruce grumbled, but he conceded the point.

“Okay, I have an idea…you know those plans we’ve been talking about for a while? I think it’s time to put them into practice.”

* * *

Alex stalked his latest target as the man furiously muttered to himself.

“Gonna show them all, they’ll see! I’m not crazy, I’m _not!_ I saw _something,_ I know I did! The sound recordings just prove it! ‘It was a bear’ my ass! Goddamn MUTOs in the woods or some shit, fuckin’ green Bigfoot for all I know…” The man mumbled feverishly, eyes darting back and forth suspiciously.

_Geez…now I feel kinda bad…wait, nope, that was just my biomass shifting. This is hilarious!_

Alex deliberately made some rubble shift, causing the man to whip around and swallow heavily as he raised his camera and crept forwards into the darkened, dilapidated warehouse where Alex was lying in wait.

Alex held a small stone in his hand and whipped it with unerring accuracy at the far wall where he had prepared a little something special. It impacted the sheet metal with a loud clanging noise, shattering the still silence.

The man whipped around and snapped a photo on reflex, and the bright flash of the camera illuminated the entirety of the far wall for an instant, revealing the message Alex had scratched into the sheetmetal walls earlier that day.

 _‘LEAVE THIS PLACE. YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE, HUMAN JEFFRIES.’_ It said in letters many feet high.

“…Oh shit, oh _fuck!_ How’s it know my name?!” The man babbled, looking around wildly.

_And now for my favorite part!_

Alex projected his voice around the cavernous space, making it sound like his voice was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. His energies were difficult to work with even now, but they were easier to use when trying to do something sound or stealth-based.

“You are not the only one who monitors their neighbors without their consent. _Get out,”_ Alex hissed, ending the sentence off with a low, clicking growl.

The man froze into a statue of himself, not even breathing. Alex could hear the way his heartbeat stuttered in his chest, hummingbird-quick.

“Are you deaf, foolish human? I will not warn you a third time. I. Said. _GET! OUT!”_ Alex roared, scraping his tail-Blade on the metal support struts near the ceiling where he was perched like a nightmarish gecko. He bared his teeth in a sneer, unseen from his position high up on the ceiling.

The man shrieked in fright, and fumbled his camera, accidentally snapping another picture as he struggled to get a good grip on it. The bright flash blinded Alex for a split second and he shrieked in annoyance and anger.

Jeffries booked it out of the warehouse like his ass was on fire and didn’t look back.

Alex huffed in satisfaction at seeing the man fleeing in terror before sending out a sub-sonic call to his friend. That was the signal they agreed upon to indicate that it was safe to head out. The man wasn’t anywhere close to the Hive, and Bruce should have had plenty of time to pack everything up. Weeks earlier, Alex had retrieved various supplies from the nearest civilization in preparation for such an event.

Both he and Bruce had been feeling cooped up in Chernobyl, so it was mutually agreed that it was time to move on. The radiation was lovely, as was the peace and quiet, so they decided on keeping the place as a sort of home base, and making journeys to far-off lands when they felt wanderlust creeping up on them.

With the right combination of clothes, Bruce could mostly hide his inhuman features, though it did look rather odd and was a little uncomfortable for Bruce. His legs and feet just didn’t really fit in regular shoes anymore, so it was uncomfortable and caused him to walk with a sort of staggering gait, almost like a limp, due to his fucked-up balance.

A walking stick helped, and going off of how almost all of his skin had to be kept covered due to his striking markings, they decided that the best place to test out if their ideas would work was the vast, expansive deserts of Africa and the Middle East.

Bruce pulled off the desert nomad look very well, and they could explore the wilds to their hearts’ content without fear of discovery. With Alex’s ability to shift into anything, traveling while Bruce was smaller and unable to make mile-long jumps was simple. He’d already gotten a lot of practice with being a horse, so it was no trouble for him to cart Bruce and their stuff around.

He could lift and throw well over a hundred tons if he really put his back into it. He barely noticed the couple hundred pounds of carrying Bruce and all their camping stuff.

He could also just store everything in his pocket-space, but keeping at least a few supplies visible lent an air of authenticity to the whole desert-nomad act.

Alex watched Jeffries run off screaming, pleased with the results. Compared to some of the stuff he pulled on Blackwatch, this was fucking amateur hour. He hadn’t even had to bust out the gore and the man still ran screaming like a little girl! Wuss.

Alex huffed in amusement and went to go find Bruce. They had a long journey ahead of them.

* * *

Jeffries sobbed with relief once he made it back to base. He was shaking with fear and adrenaline, and he rushed through the decontamination procedures before running to his room and frantically packing up all of his things. He’d taken one look at the accidental picture he’d snapped on the camera’s little screen and just about wet himself once he processed what he was looking at.

_Fuck that! Fuck everything about what just happened! I quit! I’m getting on the first plane out of here and going home to hide in the deepest hole I can find!_

“Jeff? What are yeh doin’?” Came the curious voice of Anabelle.

“Fuckin’ getting the hell outta here! I took the rad-suit and the camera to look for the monster, and I fucking found it! I’m _so_ gone! It told me to get out, so that’s exactly what I’m doin’! Fuck you guys, I knew what I fuckin’ saw the first goddamn time! It was watching us the whole time! It knew my fucking _name!”_ He babbled as he threw all his clothes into his duffle bag, not bothering to fold anything, he just jammed everything in until it fit.

Charles came wandering in, drawn by all the shouting. “What do you mean ‘it knew your name’? Are you saying it _spoke_ to you? How much sleep are you running on?”

“Fuck you, Charles! The proof’s on the goddamn camera! I don’t give a flying fuck if you twats believe me or not anymore, it was real enough for me!” He snapped, zipping his bag up, throwing it over his shoulder and making for the door. He wasn’t going to wait for a bus or cab, he was goddamn walking to town and getting the hell off of this continent as fast as possible!

On his way out the door, he let off a parting shot over his shoulder, “Try to not get got by Facehuggers, you skeptical assholes! I _quit!”_

He slammed the door on his way out and made his way down the dirt road at a swift pace.

* * *

“Whut in the bludy ‘ell was tha’ all about?” Anabelle asked, bewildered.

“Hell if I know! Jeffries might have just finally snapped. Come on, let’s go look at whatever ‘evidence’ he got so worked up about. This job’s boring as all hell, but it pays pretty good, I don’t understand why he’d just quit like that,” Charles said, grabbing the camera and plugging it into the computer before blowing up the latest photos.

There were a lot of super boring and normal-looking photos at the start, but then he came across the photo that was clearly what Jeffries was talking about. Charles was abruptly shocked wide awake when he processed what he was looking at on screen.

“Okay, I’m not into all that horror movie crap, but you’re seeing what I’m seeing, right?”

“…Yeah…thar’s no fookin’ way Jeff made tha’ by ‘imself,” Anabelle said, staring at the message gouged into solid metal with trepidation and fear. The letters were many feet high, and set very far up on the wall, looking like they’d been carved into the wall by something with six fingers dragging claws across the surface.

“Hey, there’s one more photo…wait, what’s that over there in the corne— _ohmyfuckinggod!”_

“That…that is a Xenomorph,” Anabelle enunciated very clearly, voice faint with fear. “That is a very _big,_ very _angry_ Xenomorph.”

The pair stared in horror at the screen before looking at each other. They simultaneously lunged for their own rooms, intent on joining Jeffries in his journey to get the hell off of the continent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this chapter is similar and different from the first iteration of itself, let me know which you like better, or just your thoughts in general. 
> 
> next chapter i drive canon into a ditch just a little bit and forget what a timeline is b/c i'm self-indulgent trash. thats by design tho. canon timeline's already fucked, so whats a little more damage? i had zero plans to take the story in that direction, but alex just does what he wants. he's a force of chaos. he's like chaotic neutral, i guess? he does good stuff but also has super questionable methods and his ethics and morals are a bit screwy. also permission. he sucks ass at asking for permission b/c he forgets to use any of those social skills he stole.
> 
> it says a lot about the group dynamic when tony stark is the impulse control/common sense. my bois are badass but also suffer from dumb of ass. alex and bruce have infinity braincells but they just forget to use any of them like 98% of the time
> 
> thats okay, we still love them both :3
> 
> EDIT: totally forgot to credit the song *facepalm* 
> 
> Towards the Sun by Rihanna


	10. Starlight, Starbright, Oh, Won't You Shine for Me Tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by popular demand, i present to you a chappie chock full of reactions and other POVs! enjoy! :D
> 
> Sorry im late, but i had to re-jig the entire chappie. didn't fully like where i'd gone with it and then i got a burst of inspiration from reading your guy's comments, so i re-worked the whole thing and it works much better now! 
> 
> see? comments are good for everyone! you should leave some :)

Richard sighed in aggravation as he received the third letter of resignation in the same day. For whatever reason, all three of the scientists stationed at Observation Outpost 11 had quit on the same day, citing ‘unsafe working conditions’. More than that, they’d all filed for immediate deportation from Ukraine back to their respective home countries.

_ ‘Unsafe working conditions’? Pah! I just had the OSHA inspector drag his ass out there to look the place over not six months ago! The radiation levels were completely negligible and the building was in perfect working order! Why would they just all up and quit within hours of each other? Maybe they fucked up and destroyed something accidentally and are trying to fob off the blame on something else? _

Richard sighed again as he filled out the paperwork to have the OSHA inspector come out to look at the station, again, when he noticed that Jeffries, the scientist with the most seniority from Outpost 11, had sent him a second email from his personal account and not his work-issued one. Strange. He clicked on it and began reading.

> _ Richard, _
> 
> _ I know you’re going to think this all some big prank, but I swear to you before God and all his angels that what I saw was real. I did not doctor these photos in any way, shape, or form. I heard it with my own two ears and saw it with my own two eyes, and on my dead mother’s grave, it was real. _
> 
> _ There’s a monster—maybe multiple—living in the ruins of Chernobyl, and it did not want us there. It stalked me for weeks, watching me. I never caught more than the barest glimpse of it out of the corner of my eyes for weeks, but Charles and Anabelle didn’t believe any of it. I got fed up and went looking for it myself with the rad-suit and camera, and I guess it finally had enough, because when I went exploring in the ruins, it finally made a move. _
> 
> _ It knew my name, and I’ll be having nightmares about the entire encounter for the rest of my goddamn life. Dan O’Bannon and Ronald Shusett were either fucking prophets, or they had a close encounter of the third kind and somehow lived to make a fucking franchise out of it. _
> 
> _ Just…just look at the photos I managed to get, and make of them what you will. I don’t know how else to explain it. My only advice is to just drop a nuke on the ruins, and maybe some napalm on the ashes just for good measure. It’s already irradiated to all fuck…that’s probably part of the problem, now that I think about it… _
> 
> _ I don’t even care if you believe me or not, but I don’t need the deaths of every poor sod on Eurasia on my conscience because I didn’t have the stones to warn anybody. My advice is to get the hell off the continent and prep like it’s the end of humanity as we know it, because it very well could be. It’s only a matter of time before something catastrophic happens. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the movies, but I have, and the extra arms and head crest mean that even if it’s the only one around right now, it’ll multiply faster than catholic rabbits and if that happens, then humanity is turbo-fucked. _
> 
> _ So if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got another continent to be on, a bunker to dig, and an entire liquor store’s worth of booze to drown myself in. _
> 
> _ Here’s to hoping we don’t all get murdered brutally, _
> 
> _ Jeffries _

Attached to that bizarre email were two rather high-quality PNG files. Richard clicked on them and felt confusion, followed by dawning horror before he lunged for his phone. He’d never told anyone, but he’d once been part of a rather clandestine organization in his youth.

He’d even managed to climb his way through the ranks before all the stress had gotten to him and he retired to spend the rest of his days doing something less stress-inducing than being part of a worldwide spy organization.

Managing teams of boring, regular scientists of the not-mad variety in a place nothing exciting ever happened seemed like the perfect place to spend his twilight working years before he retired-retired.

Evidently he chose poorly, because what he’d just seen was not good for his health, mental or otherwise.

Now, some people might have dismissed Jeffries as a crazy crackpot conspiracy theory sonovabitch, but Richard knew better. You can only witness your friend’s alien tentacle-cat hack up a cube of infinite power so many times before you learn to just accept what your eyes were telling you and get a clue that aliens were real. That amount happened to be one, in case anyone was wondering.

He dialed a number that only a select few people had the privilege of knowing, and then typed in a second series of numbers to bypass the fake ‘this number is no longer in service’ message.

The dial tone changed slightly before ringing once, twice, and then Nick Fury picked up on the other end.

“Richard, it’s been a while. What’s the occasion? Your wrinkly ass finally decide to do everyone a favor and retire?” The man grouched, but Richard could tell he was in a good mood. Fury was just a crotchety bastard like that. It was half the reason they got on so well.

“Nick, I’m going to forward you this email I just got from one of my scientists, and  _ then _ I’m going to retire and let you crazy spy bastards handle it,” Richard said, wedging the phone between his shoulder and ear, fingers flying across the keyboard as he sent his old friend the goods. “Fucking  _ look _ at this bullshit. I retired to get away from that kind of crap, but it just keeps dragging me back in. No way am I sticking around to be the poor idiot in charge of this operation when shit like this is going down. I’ve got a big fat retirement fund, so I’m going to use it to go enjoy the Bahamas before the world implodes or whatever the hell is actually going on,” He griped, smashing the send key and leaning back in his office chair to scrub a hand down his face. “Too fucking old and not fucking drunk enough for this bullshit.”

There was silence on the other end as Nick seemingly processed everything.

“And you’re sure this is real?” Came Nick’s voice, flat and calm like he got when he was serious.

“Jeffries is a superstitious SOB, but both of his no-nonsense colleagues quit mere hours after he did, so that definitely counts for something. Charles is the most skeptical bastard I’ve ever met, so if Jeffries was able to convince him, it’s sure as hell good enough for me. You’ve got access to all kinds of surveillance shit, you go take a look or something if you’re still not sure.”

“No, I believe it alright. I’ve seen too much shit in my life as it is to not take this seriously now. Jeffries was right though. O’Bannon must have either seen one himself, or he was a goddamn prophet. Fuckin’ hell, just look at it. Thanks for the heads up. Enjoy the Bahamas, you lucky bastard. Send me some rum would you? The good shit. I’m going to need a drink. I’m going to need a  _ lot _ of drinks.”

“Sure thing. I still owe you for the Budapest Incident—” Richard began, but he was cut off.

_ “We agreed never to speak of that again,” _ Nick hissed. “The good shit, Richard, I mean it.”

“You got it. I’ll send you a postcard too, yeah?”

“I’ll look forward to it. Can’t get good rum up here to save my goddamn life. Pretty sure Barton sneaks into my office from the vents and steals mine when I’m not looking. It’s the only explanation as to why my fucking rum is always fucking gone.”

“Never change, Nick.”

* * *

Bruce couldn’t help but let out a whoop of excitement as Alex raced across the terrain, faster than the swiftest racehorse. It took a bit of adjusting to riding for so many hours, but it wasn’t too much hassle. Alex’s gait was smoother than a normal horse’s and his top speed was ludicrously fast, not that they often went that fast due to wanting to keep at least a semblance of a low profile.

They had traveled deeper into the wilderness and had run into a few secluded native tribes and small settlements. They avoided the more populated areas and mostly stuck to the fringes of society as they explored inhospitable places like sandy deserts and deadly jungles.

Alex could hunt and had the ability to filter water through his form, so food and clean water wasn’t really a concern. Bruce’s radioactive blood kept the insects away from him, and diseases weren’t even on Alex’s radar as a concern, because  _ duh. _

When they ran into people, Bruce offered his services as a doctor and helped educate people about how to help prevent sickness in the future. Now, this on its own wouldn’t have been enough to cause rumors to fly across the far corners of the land, but it was Bruce’s insistence that he keep every part of his body covered and his odd companion that first set tongues wagging.

Alex didn’t always stay as a horse, so when Bruce arrived near villages or caravans, he was sometimes a bird, usually a crow or large black raptor of ambiguous breed, or a dog or jackal or wolflike creature, and on one memorable occasion, a large cobra that coiled around Bruce’s body.

All his forms had bright ice-blue eyes of course, so when the rumors started making the rounds and people got consistent reports of the man, but wildly conflicting stories about his animal companion, people began searching for an explanation.

The conclusion most people came to was that Bruce was a witch, and that Alex was his shapeshifting familiar. Thus, the story of ‘The Witchdoctor’ was born. He always seemed to have just the right medicine to cure whoever asked for his help, and when he didn’t, miracles were sure to follow. He never asked for payment beyond some basic supplies and sometimes a place to stay for the night, no matter how many riches he was offered in exchange.

He never uncovered his face from underneath his hood or head scarf and facemask, but a few people had caught sight of his uncovered eyes on the rare occasions he removed his darkened goggles. They said he had snake eyes, slitted and a poisonous green that shone in the dark.

But he never caused anyone any trouble and had saved the lives of several people, even when it seemed like a foregone conclusion that they would die, so most folks tended to let the man’s unusual appearance and habits slide. They didn’t want to piss him off and have him potentially curse the village with his magic, after all.

The children all loved his familiar too, as it was very gentle and was often willing to play with them and allowed itself to be pet or carried without snapping or showing aggression, even when the children were less than gentle with it due to innocently curious hands and clumsy fingers.

The Witchdoctor never stayed in one place too long, often saying that ‘the wild lands called his name’ and that he got antsy if he stayed in one place too long, so he always left, no matter how much the women and children begged him to stay.

* * *

While not technically licensed as a medical doctor, Bruce had way more knowledge of medicine and anatomy than a vast majority of people who lived out in the places they explored, and with Alex’s supplementary knowledge filling in the gaps for Bruce, as well as his ability to produce just about any chemical or drug you could name, he was usually able to help whoever happened to be suffering from sickness.

On the rare occasions where they arrived too late to save someone the conventional way, Alex would discreetly try and use his powers to ward off death, and sometimes not-so-discreetly.

Bruce was just glad that most people were too grateful that their friends and loved ones had survived to question the pair or their methods overly much. One nice thing about hanging around places where people still believed in healing through prayer and blessings from gods was that miracles were a perfectly acceptable answer to everything unexplainable with conventional logic.

A massive hemorrhaging wound closing up in seconds after the strange medicine man’s pet bird cried on your dying husband’s injury? Clearly they were blessed by the gods and had healing powers, let me go get you something to show my eternal gratitude.

The village chief dying of a wasting disease that mysteriously vanished after being licked by the traveling doctor’s massive wolf-dog? Clearly it was a Grim that he’d somehow managed to tame with his magic, let me go slaughter the fattest calf in the village for it to eat, it’s the least I can do, really it’s fine, let’s throw a feast to celebrate!

A widow’s lame daughter being able to walk for the first time after the masked healer’s pet cobra bit her? Please sir, won’t you take her with you? She can cook and weave and would make you a wonderful wife!

Alex had found that particular incident to be massively entertaining and had teased him relentlessly for it. The family were a bit disappointed that he wasn’t ‘on the market’ so to speak, but he’d gotten a beautifully woven handmade blanket out of it, so there was that.

Unknown to the pair, they had begun gathering a bit of a reputation. They only knew that something was up once Bruce began being greeted as ‘The Witchdoctor’ and welcomed with open arms.

* * *

Bruce had decided on traveling on foot that day, with Alex perched on his shoulder as a large vulture-esque bird. While his head wasn’t bare of feathers, the black feathers were interrupted by a white skull-like pattern wrapping around his head and across his face.

“You look like an edgy teenager’s drawing of a buzzard,” Bruce quipped, “It’s so extra.”

“Excuse you,  _ everything _ about me is extra,” Alex sniffed, sticking his razor-sharp hooked beak in the air.

Bruce huffed a laugh, “Yeah it is.”

* * *

Bruce watched with fascination as various liquids dripped from Alex’s tendrils into small vials that he then labelled.

“And you can just produce whatever chemical you want? In infinite supply?” Bruce questioned.

“Yep, pretty much. Uses energy and biomass though, but then again, basically anything I do does, so. I’ve got so many DNA samples available to choose from, along with my skill in just straight-up gene editing, I can commandeer various glands found in nature to produce whatever hell-concoction I want, including modern medicines. I just need a sample first, which is why I robbed various drugstores during my solo jaunt across Earth. Now I am my own pharmacy. With this, we can get modern medicine and other stuff to places that don’t have access to it normally. People tend to be wary about strangers, but are much more accepting of strangers that can heal their sick and dying. You’ve got some basic knowledge, but I have the brains of countless evil mad scientists kicking around up in here, not to mention my own special brand of bullshit,” Alex made a careless gesture towards his head, and Bruce didn’t even grimace at the mention of Alex’s victims anymore. They were almost always terrible people, and he was pretty sure the ones Alex was referring to were the ones responsible for torturing him, so Bruce had no sympathy for them.

Alex went on to describe what chemicals he was producing and what they were used for, along with producing many little syringes out of his own biometal. Bruce was taking notes in a little leather notebook, mentally preparing himself for interacting with people again. It had been so long since he’d get to talk to someone other than Alex. He hoped his minimal people skills hadn’t deteriorated too much during the time they were sitting unused.

* * *

Alex would  _ not stop _ laughing.

“They think—they think you’re a witch!  _ Pffft—!” _

Bruce rolled his unseen goggled eyes, “Yeah, and they think you’re my magical shapeshifting familiar.”

“Well, I mean…that’s way more accurate than you being a witch, soooo…”

Bruce grumbled. Alex was right, dammit. Bruce responded by shoving Alex off of his shoulder, where he fell to the desert sand in a tangle of limbs and feathers, still laughing.

Alex shifted into an enormous cobra and slithered up his legs and body to drape himself across Bruce’s shoulders again, weighing much less than he should’ve for a snake that size.

They probably made quite the sight. He was wearing a cotton Shemagh, which was a scarf that wrapped around his entire head and face leaving only his eyes exposed, which were covered by blacked-out goggles. His entire body was covered with layered and baggy clothing, complete with large clunky boots, very baggy and loose pants, and gloves to hide his claws and unusual legs.

The whole thing was topped off with a long, brown, hooded cloak and a large walking stick that was more like a bo staff. During their last stop at a village in need of help, he’d been gifted with some small wooden talismans and decorative gourds that he’d tied to the top of the staff. They were filled with little dried seeds, and made a pleasant dull clacking sound as they rattled against the wooden staff as he walked. Alex as a cobra draped over his shoulders just completed the odd sight.

Despite all his clothes, Bruce wasn’t overheating due to his weird new biology. Temperatures of either extreme didn’t bother him anymore, so while anyone else might suffer from heatstroke as they suffocated under all the layers, Bruce was perfectly fine, and it kept the sun off of his skin, though he didn’t have to worry about sunburn anymore either.

The only thing he didn’t like about his outfit were the shoes. Bruce now hated shoes with a passion. His new leg and foot structure made them quite uncomfortable, but he was just thankful that he didn’t have to worry about chafing or blisters. His skin was too tough for those kinds of injuries to form.

His tail was wrapped around his waist like a belt and hidden beneath baggy clothing, so other than his awkward gait, he looked pretty much normal. The staff helped with his balance, and he kept a good grip on it at all times.

* * *

Currently, he and Alex were kicking around the Afghanistan mountains, helping the large group of refugees tend to their injured and sick. Currently, Bruce was performing a bit of emergency surgery on a woman who’d been shot. Alex was in the form of a crow, sitting on a nearby rock and whispering instructions directly into his mind, gently guiding his hands with a very careful application of his mental powers.

What was happening was Alex essentially piggybacking in Bruce’s head, the same thing he did when he controlled people, but without the insanity-inducing and brain hemorrhaging side effects.

Bruce’s energies prevented those sorts of unfortunate things from happening to him, and he could easily throw off Alex’s control by flaring his own energies, but since this was happening with Bruce’s consent and was necessary to save the woman’s life, he didn’t mind in the least.

The surgery went well, all things considered. The woman had been rendered unconscious by a careful application of drugs and a touch of otherworldly energy to ensure pleasant dreams, and Bruce was soon stitching her up. It was a stroke of insane luck that they had arrived when they did. The woman would have bled out soon if not for his steady hands and Alex’s stolen medical knowledge.

The woman’s young son sat off to the side, watching the whole thing with enormous eyes. Bruce had tried to shoo him off so the kid didn’t have to witness him operating on his mother, but Bruce’s Dari wasn’t quite good enough to get the message across.

Alex usually acted as translator, but he was a little busy at the moment. Bruce finished wrapping the woman’s wounds up and Alex retook his customary perch on his shoulder.

Though Alex’s mental presence retreated some, it didn’t disappear. He still needed Alex to act as translator, after all. They’d gotten the hang of communicating mentally pretty recently, and it was a stupidly-useful skill. Now they didn’t risk discovery every time Alex wanted to make a smartass remark.

It just got beamed directly into Bruce’s brain instead. Lovely.

_ [How do I tell everyone she’s gonna be fine and what to do regarding her recovery?] _ Bruce asked over the bond. Alex relayed the words and Bruce repeated them.

_ “Your mother is going to be fine. She’ll need to take it easy for several weeks and change the bandages frequently, but she should make a full recovery as long as infection doesn’t set in,” _ Bruce parroted in Dari.

The boy sagged in relief and came to sit at his mother’s side, holding her hand.

_ “She should wake up in an hour or so,” _ Bruce added.

_ “Thank you so much, sir! I thought she might…she might…” _ The boy struggled with the words. He took a deep breath, tears in his big brown eyes,  _ “They took dad and then shot mom, I thought I’d be left all alone…” _ He whispered.

_ “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. By ‘they’ I’m assuming you mean the local terrorist group?” _ Bruce asked.

_ “Yes, the Ten Rings…I hope they all get blown up by those stupid stolen American weapons they used to destroy our home…” _

_ “Why would the Ten Rings take your father? Is that something they do often around here? They forcefully recruit people?” _

_ “Sometimes, but I think they took dad because he’s a very good doctor. He used to treat everyone in our hometown, Gulmira. People came from miles around just to get his help…maybe one of the stupid bastards got injured from their own weapons and they needed him to treat their men?” _

* * *

It was only Alex’s immense control over his own body and his ability to filter what went through the bond that his immense shock went unnoticed.

_ Holy crap…if this is when I think it is, then the timeline is all kinds of fucked. I mean, yeah I guess we got to Grayburn way earlier than Bruce did in canon, but still! Iron Man should have happened months ago! …What if this means my future knowledge is unreliable? If stuff’s already different, then events could happen a lot differently that I remember…fuck, the invasion needs to happen, or all my plans are fucked! This sucks…well, no use in worrying about it. I can’t rescue Tony unfortunately, but I don’t want Yinsen to die either! _

_ In canon, this is probably when his wife died, and he’d have no idea what happened to his son and likely assumed he’d gotten killed by the terrorists too. Fuck, this is a mess. How can I ensure Iron Man is born but let Yinsen live at the same time? _

Alex thought very hard on the problem while simultaneously acting as Bruce’s translator and helping him perform minor miracles of healing. It was always hilarious watching Bruce try to politely extricate himself away from gaggles of women basically falling all over themselves trying to express their gratitude.

Later that night when Bruce was curled up safe in the tent, sound asleep, Alex decided to consciously try something he’d only ever really done on accident before: dreamwalking.

That was sort of a misnomer, considering Alex could do it while awake, but it referred to the way he could sort of enter the minds of sleeping people and interact with them. He had to be really gentle though, or he could cause a lot of damage to the person on the other end.

Well, as long as they weren’t Bruce. Bruce’s Void Energies made his mind a lot sturdier and basically cancelled out anything harmful that Alex might accidentally do, so he figured it would be a good place to practice.

He’d already done some accidental dreamwalking with Bruce before, so it wasn’t super difficult to trigger the ability on purpose now. He focused and attuned his energies to the right frequency for dreams, and felt himself enter into that strange black expanse that was the realm of the sleeping.

Bruce’s mental representation was large and green, but rather fuzzy and indistinct. Alex coiled his long eel-like astral form around his friend and hummed soothingly, lulling Bruce into a deep, calm sleep filled with lazy and pleasant dreams.

He looked out and noticed the many faintly flickering stars in the distance. Those were regular people’s dreams, and Alex held his friend’s mind steady as he wormed his way through the empty space, idly snapping immense incorporeal jaws at the stray bolts of malignant energy. Those caused nightmares and hovered around a few lights, causing unrest and fear.

Alex swallowed the tiny webs of energy like bits of cotton candy at a fair. They each had their own unique flavor, but they were all interesting. Some tasted much better than others, but none were completely unpalatable to him.

The dim lights shone brighter and more steady after he disposed of the little parasites feeding on them. The smaller, fuzzier lights represented children, and he idly brushed up against them and shed some of his own energy after infusing it with light, happy thoughts, bringing dreams of sweets and soft things where nightmares once dwelled.

He swam through the plains of dream-stars, looking for two in particular. He found them surrounded by stars that gave off absolutely disgusting vibes to his senses, and he almost crushed them under his own astral form on principle, but he restrained himself.

His disgust caused Bruce’s cradled form to stir slightly, so Alex quickly soothed him back into a deeper rest with gentle nuzzles. He tucked Bruce back near his softer underbelly and held him there with careful limbs. Bruce curled into him and resumed sleeping. Alex cooed at the cuteness before returning to his search.

Near the middle of this particular cluster of stars sat the brightest he’d ever seen, other than Bruce’s. Instead of a vibrant gamma-green, it was a familiar shade of Arc Reactor blue. It had to be Tony. Alex was exceedingly careful as he peeled the dense web of nightmares away from the star before tucking it up against his belly as well, right next to Bruce.

He coiled his long form around them, like a cobra guarding its eggs, and he pushed the others away, except for one other. He did not coil around it, but he did clear it of nightmares after ascertaining that he’d gotten the right person.

While he wanted the man to live, he did not overly care about Yinsen. Not like he did for Bruce or even Tony. Perhaps that was a horrible, selfish thing, but Alex did not particularly care. He was a selfish person. He was greedy and self-centered, and apathetic towards things he didn’t care about.

He coveted things and while he did not think of people as objects, he was definitely possessive over them, and highly territorial. He knew he wasn’t that good of a person, he regularly ate people, for fuck sake, but he didn’t really care.

Perhaps he was a horrible person, but he just couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. He had his precious people, his favorite things, and that was all he really needed. He supposed he was rather like a dragon in that respect.

He hoarded and jealously guarded and would shred anyone who dared to touch what was his, but if you left him and his alone, he’d return the favor, for the most part.

So Alex crooned and coiled and fussed over the two shining stars in his possession, and he was content.

* * *

Tony jolted awake and felt something on his face. He sat up, ignoring the searing ache in his chest, and wiped at his eyes. His dirty hands came away wet, and he realized that he had been crying in his sleep, and he frowned and tried to recall why.

He’d been having a nightmare, that much was blindingly obvious, but then it had all stopped. The terrorists that haunted his sleep had dissolved like so much mist, and instead he was faced with an enormous presence, the likes of which he had never felt.

Like that feeling he got when he’d visited the Grand Canyon with Rhodey that one time. It was so, so massive, and he was so, so insignificant next to it. Like a speck of dust before a mountain. Except the mountain loved him.

His train of thought came to a screeching halt as he tried to process that. He’d been crying not in fear, but from some other, overwhelming emotion he couldn’t name. He’d never been the best with emotions or people, always preferring deflection with jokes and snark and the cold logic of robotics.

But the presence he’d felt…it had cared for him. Loved him, even. It was so huge it could crush him without even noticing, but instead it had cradled him and held him like a precious thing. Tony couldn’t recall ever being held like that.

He remembered the feeling of utter safety and comfort, and he wept in remembrance. He was stuck in this horrible cave, and yet in his dreams, it was the safest and most cherished he’d ever felt.

He chalked it up to him beginning to hallucinate or lose his mind, and he resolved to work even harder on his escape plan. Maybe when he finally saw Rhodey and Happy and Pepper again, he’d feel even a fraction as loved as he’d felt in his own dreams.

God, he was a pathetic mess. Time for the patented Stark technique of avoiding dealing with feelings (ew) by drowning yourself in work. He’d have preferred drowning in booze or girls over work, but seeing as how there was no booze or girls to be found, work it was.

* * *

Except it didn’t work. The dreams came back every night without fail, making him crave things he knew he would never have even once he escaped. Yinsen was right. He was a man that had everything, and yet nothing.

Yinsen would go home to his family, and Tony would go home to a world that cared only about what he could give it. Inventions, money, sex, it all meant nothing. Tony felt like an empty tin shell filled with batteries and wires instead of a heart.

Except in his dreams. He worked himself to the bone every night, hoping to exhaust himself enough to sleep without dreams, and he’d fail every time. In fact, they’d only seem to get worse. The presence had no face, but it had huge blue eyes that were filled with love and care, and enormous teeth that would shred anyone who dared to touch him. There was something else there too, something big and green, but it always seemed to be deep asleep and didn’t notice him.

The presence with blue eyes loved that green thing more than life itself, and Tony tried to not feel too envious of some random green blob. He’s pretty sure he failed, because every time he felt the emotion get too strong, the presence would turn its attention to him and curl around him even closer, whispering things he didn’t understand, but were filled with kindness.

He woke up every morning with tears on his face, and Yinsen would look at him with pity, and Tony couldn’t stand it. So he blocked it all out and poured everything he was into escaping.

* * *

The presence seemed to know what he was doing, and he gradually came to understand its indistinct whispers. They were instructions and tips for what he’d dubbed the Mk I. How it even knew what it was or how it functioned, he didn’t have a clue, but he was grateful for the assistance nonetheless.

Little corrections and hints here and there dramatically increased the efficiency of his desperate, cobbled-together designs, but the presence had nothing but praise for him.

“You’ll soar one day, Starshine,” It would say. “You’ll fly above the clouds and pierce the heavens themselves.”

_ But I can’t fly, _ He’d think to himself.  _ I’m trapped underground in a cave. Someone else is there with me, but I’m still alone. _

“Oh Starshine, don’t you know? You’re never alone, not anymore. A piece of me shall be with you always. In your darkest hour, when your heart has been torn from your chest by the one you entrusted it to, I will be there, defending you. When poison creeps through your veins unchecked, I shall be there too, keeping your bright heart alive. You will soar, Starshine, and you will be beautiful, and all who truly look upon your brilliance shall be blinded by it in all the best ways. And when you fall, I shall be there to catch you. Have no fear, I am with you always, even when you can’t see me. You are loved, Starshine, for you are my precious thing. Never forget that.”

And Tony would jolt awake and weep.

* * *

When he slept in his own bed for the first time in three months, the dreams would vanish, and he would weep, though he did not know if it was in relief or grief for their absence.

The escape had gone off without a hitch. The program had loaded, the power had gone out, and Tony had blitzed through the tunnels in armor made from little more than scraps, desperate hope, and secrets whispered to him from somewhere beyond the stars.

He and Yinsen would stumble through the sands together, and Rhodey—beautiful, wonderful Rhodey—would find them and take them both home on the helicopter. Yinsen would embrace his family in the mountains outside Gulmira in disbelief, tears carving tracks down his face, and Tony would look away, envy coiling in his gut.

He’d eat three cheap cheeseburgers and hold an impromptu press conference. People would protest and stocks would plummet, but Tony wouldn’t care, because he built a suit of shining armor in hot-rod red and gleaming gold, a shining star in its chest, and instead of weeping, he would sing.

* * *

Tony smiled as he beheld the finished product of many sleepless nights spent slaving away in his workshop. JARVIS was upset with him over his new habit of avoiding rest as much as possible, but Tony couldn’t bring himself to rest when he knew all that awaited him was cold, empty darkness.

There was no gentle humming, no warm presence there to hold him, no green thing to be envious of. His dreams were cold and empty, and Tony felt it settle into his bones, and so he avoided sleep.

He blasted the heat and his music even louder in a bid to fill that cold, quiet place inside of him. It helped a little, but the only time the feeling really went away was when he was working on the armor. But now the armor was done, and the feeling still remained.

He trailed fingers across the darkened port in its chest, and he felt some foreign urge well up in him. He thought of what he would use the armor to do, what wrongs it would right, and the feeling grew.

Tony loved music, but he couldn’t play an instrument, and the only time he’d ever sung before was during drunken karaoke sessions with Rhodey in his college days.

Somehow, none of that seemed to matter, and the words came welling up from somewhere deep inside of him. He saw the various metal parts scattered about on his workbench, and grabbed a long handled wrench.

The loud tapping and clacking and ringing of metal parts created an odd sort of tune, and he let the words flow out, not even really aware of why he was doing it, just that it felt right.

> _ War is not freedom, _
> 
> _ Over my shoulder, _
> 
> _ I see a clearer view. _
> 
> _ All for them, _
> 
> _ Reason I'm breathing, _
> 
> _ Everything and nothing to lose! _
> 
> _ Should I ask myself in the morning, _
> 
> _ What a warrior would do? _
> 
> _ Tell me, underneath my armor, _
> 
> _ Am I loyal, brave, and true? _
> 
> _ Am I loyal, brave, and true? _
> 
> _ Losing is easy, _
> 
> _ Winning takes bravery, _
> 
> _ I am a tiger's fool! _
> 
> _ Out in the open, _
> 
> _ No one to save me, _
> 
> _ The kindest of whispers are cruel. _
> 
> _ Should I ask myself in the morning, _
> 
> _ What a warrior would do? _
> 
> _ Tell me, underneath my armor, _
> 
> _ Am I loyal, brave, and true? _
> 
> _ Am I loyal, brave, and true? _
> 
> _ Cold is the evening, _
> 
> _ Warm is the dream, _
> 
> _ Chasing the answers, _
> 
> _ 'Til I can't sleep. _
> 
> _ Will I be stronger, _
> 
> _ Or will I be weak, _
> 
> _ When you're not with me? _
> 
> _ Who am I without my armor? _
> 
> _ Standing in my father's shoes, _
> 
> _ All I know is that it's harder, _
> 
> _ To be loyal, brave, and true… _

The song came to a close, and Tony felt a familiar wetness on his cheeks. He wiped them without reacting and determination crawled its way across his features.

“…Sir? Are you alright? Your behavior as of late has been most peculiar,” JARVIS said.

“Never better, J. Time to go do something worthwhile with my life. Suit me up, I’ve got asses to kick and weapons to destroy. Bastards won’t know what hit them,” He quietly snarled.

“…As you wish, Sir. Please do not take any unnecessary risks,” JARVIS pleaded, spinning up the assembly machine to help Tony into his latest creation.

Tony’s mind echoed the words he’d heard so long ago as he took to the skies.

He’d soared above the clouds, he’d touched the sky, pierced the heavens, and the blue of the brightest sky did not compare to the blue of the eyes in the memories of his dreams, and tears slid down his face, hidden from the world behind a suit of impenetrable armor. He refused to let the world see him cry, to see his weakness. After all, what was a suit of armor but just another mask amongst many?

* * *

When Stane tore his heart from his chest, the presence’s words would echo in his head, and he would not weep. Stane would turn and walk away triumphant and smug, just before he collapsed to the floor, convulsing as ribbons of blue light crept their way from the reactor in his hand to flay the skin from his bones and carve his own heart from his chest like he’d done to Tony not two minutes ago.

Despite the effects of the sonic paralysis device, Tony would somehow find the strength to twist his face into a cruel, vindicated smile as tears slid their way down his face yet again.

Obadiah Stane would die on the floor of Tony Stark’s Malibu mansion, and Tony would weep, though not in sadness or grief or anger, but relief, knowing that what he’d seen and felt was real, and that what the presence had said was true after all. He wasn’t alone, not anymore.

* * *

Tony jolted awake in his massive bed, the glorious softness of his Egyptian cotton sheets paling in comparison to the comfort he’d felt in that mysterious, alien place his mind had so often yearned to visit again. His cheeks were dry, and he felt only relief.

His mind was alight with revolutionary ideas the presence had helped him dream up, and instead of lounging around like he normally would on such a lazy Saturday morning, he all but threw himself out of bed, hastily donning whatever clothes he fished out of his drawers full of casual lab wear.

The secrets of the universe once again his to know and twist to fit his own needs. There was poison in his veins, and he wanted it gone. Thankfully, it appeared he had friends in high places willing to show him the way. He could hardly believe what he’d learned, but numbers never lied. As it turns out, neither did metaphysical representations of dream-creatures.

“JARVIS, new project file, put it on my private personal server, highest security measures you have. You show it to no one, got it?”

“Of course, Sir. What shall the file be named?”

“Call it Project: Starshine,” Tony said after a moment of hesitation. “And get the fabricators online ASAP.”

“Of course, Sir. Anything else? You seem rather…chipper this morning. Is there any particular reason?”

“Just had a nice dream, is all. Now come on, chop chop, we’ve got history to make!” Tony said as he all but ran down to the lab, practically buzzing with excitement.

* * *

Tony’s hands flew across screens made of nothing but light as he tweaked and retreated the reactor in ways he hadn’t thought possible before last night. Its holographic representation gleamed in hues of blue light just a few shades off from what he’d seen in his dreams.

“Sir, may I ask what prompted this…sudden burst of inspiration? It is not every day that you invent a new element from scratch.”

“‘And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’ You know, as a kid I always thought Shakespeare to be outdated and boring, but he really nailed some things,” Tony said idly as he put the finishing touches on what might very well be his greatest creation yet. “When I was in the cave…I had these…dreams,” Tony started hesitantly.

“Dreams, Sir? May I ask what they were about?”

“I don’t even know how to describe them really, but it was dark, and there was this…thing there, in the darkness, with me. It was huge, bigger than huge. Just…the biggest thing you could imagine. Like Mount Everest just staring down at you,” Tony began. “You’d think it’d be scary, right? Just this massive sort of presence bearing down on you, all of its focus on you, just…staring into your soul. But it wasn’t scary at all. It was just…there.”

“Did anything happen in the dream, Sir?” JARVIS asked curiously.

“I mean, sort of? It talked to me, but not in a way I could understand, not at first. It was in this other language I couldn’t really understand. But eventually, it all started to make sense. It helped me escape the cave. It made the armor better, told me things, gave me ideas I hadn’t considered. Forbidden knowledge. Things I had no way of knowing. Every night in that cave, I dreamt of it. After I escaped, it went away for awhile. It came back tonight. It told me how to fix the reactor. This will save me from death by palladium poisoning and even fix what damage has already happened.”

“You are saying this thing from your dreams, it gave you knowledge, Sir? Knowledge you didn’t have before?”

“Yeah. I know you were offline for the whole…Stane thing, but…” Tony trailed off. “You saw the body right? After you came back online? The burn marks? The…brand?”

“Yes, Sir. The coroners were most confused as to how the reactor’s security measures could have caused such wounds. If not for the fact that you were still suffering from the aftereffects of the sonic paralysis device, you would have been under investigation for murder.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing. When I told the cops and agents that thought they were doing a good job of being undercover what happened, I was sorta lying through my teeth.”

“Sir?”

“The thing in my dreams? It didn’t just tell me stuff about things, it said…it said…” Tony took a deep breath. Talking about feelings (ew) sucked ass.

“What did it say, Sir?” JARVIS gently prompted.

“It said that it…loved me, and that I was precious to it and that it would protect me, even when I couldn’t see it or feel it,” Tony spat out in a rush. “I know it makes me sound like a fucking headcase, but that’s what it told me, and after I watched Stane get ripped to shreds like that, when I hadn’t done anything to the reactor to make it do that, when that brand was seared into his skin, I knew that it was all real. The dreams, the presence, what it told me…it was all real. It really is always with me, even when I can’t see it or feel it, it’s there.”

“Something is stalking you, Sir? Should I raise the alarm or lock down the house?” JARVIS asked hesitantly, like he knew it wouldn’t really do anything.

“No. I don’t think I’m in danger from it at all. On the contrary, I think it’s more like everyone else who isn’t me are the ones who have to worry. Stane didn’t die a quick or painless death, I can tell you that much. So far everything it’s told me has come true, like a fucking prophecy. The only thing left is the fall.”

“The fall, Sir?”

“Yeah, it said something about being there when my heart got ripped from my chest, and about being there when poison was creeping through my veins, and about being there to catch me when I fell. So far, the first two have come true, so logically, the only thing left is falling.”

“Regardless of this mysterious presence’s assistance so far, perhaps it would be better to make a parachute standard on future iterations of the armor?”

Tony nodded, “Yeah, I’m with you, J. Better safe than sorry on this one. Now, why don’t you start running diagnostics and simulations on this thing and install that parachute while I go build a particle accelerator in my basement.”

“Right away, Sir.”

* * *

When Tony installed the new reactor, he almost collapsed with relief when he felt it hum to life in his chest, chasing away the cold, quiet emptiness that had resided there before. The hum had two parts that he could hear. A slight physical hum of the reactor working, and a second, slightly quieter hum that he could recognize anywhere. It appeared as though only he could hear it after some subtle scans and questioning JARVIS.

It was deep and if he really focused he could hear it reverberate through his bones. It was solid and unceasing, and it was the most beautiful thing Tony had heard in a long time. He cranked the heat down from where it had been elevated for so long. He didn’t need it anymore, because he was finally warm. The star in his chest kept him warm now, and something in him unclenched.

His mind quieted for a few precious moments, and he was truly at peace for the first time he could remember. He’d found his heart, and he was home. Everything was finally  _ right. _

* * *

Alex sat back and coiled tighter around Bruce’s mental form. He’d enjoyed talking with Tony again after so long. It had taken him a while to find Tony’s sleeping mind after he escaped from the cave. Hunting Pulse was powerful, but the response echoes took a long time to reach him when the target was on the other side of the globe. Even though space was relative in the dream plains, Tony was still awfully far away, and his sleeping hours were so odd that it took him far too long to locate the man.

Now that he knew where to go though, finding him was a piece of cake. He had an inordinate amount of fun imagining the looks on everyone’s faces at SHIELD HQ when Tony invented Starkanium without their help or input in any way, many months ahead of schedule.

Tony was no longer dying due to the reactor. Quite the opposite actually. Alex had managed to improve on Starkanium’s formula before he’d gifted Tony with the knowledge necessary to create it, and the consequences of keeping a power source that powerful and based so closely on the Cosmic Fulcrums directly in your chest cavity would soon become apparent. They were all good things though, so Alex wasn’t worried.

The world needed Iron Man, and keeping the man alive was near the top of Alex’s priority list, so he did what he did best and enforced his will on reality and made it cry as he laughed and kicked it while it was down.

Stupid laws of reality, trying to tell him what he could and could not do. The laws of reality could kiss his eldritch ass, because Alex didn’t buy what they were selling. He DIY’d that shit and came up with something much better.

_ Suck on that, reality! I fart in your general direction! _

Alex smirked as he remembered the way he’d used the second, stronger palladium reactor as a conduit for his own power to rip Stane a new one. Several new ones actually. Just as a parting shot, he’d literally branded the man as a betrayer, letting everyone who saw him know what happened to those that fucked with what belonged to him.

Vanko would find out something similar if he tried anything funny. After all, there were only so many Arc Reactors in the world, so if a new one suddenly sprung to life in Russia, Vanko’s hand might just slip at some crucial moment and suffer from an unfortunate smelting accident.

Alex hummed contently as he imagined what Vanko’s screams of anguish might sound like. Bruce snorted and rolled over in his sleep in the tent, so he was soon distracted by all the cute and focused on not waking his friend up from cooing too loudly.

* * *

Tony gently rubbed the skin around the port of the reactor. The perfectly smooth, unscarred skin.  _ Something _ was happening to his body, but Tony was no longer afraid. The presence came back every night and soothed his sleep, and Tony now knew that he was in no danger.

At first he’d been completely freaked out at what was happening and a little upset that it had not deemed it necessary to inform him of the side effects of the new reactor, but he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at the presence.

It wanted him healthy and safe and happy, and Tony hadn’t even received the same courtesy from his own goddamn parents, so he really couldn’t stay that upset. It wasn’t like he was mad at the effects exactly, more just the fact that it didn’t think to tell him, but he sort of got that the presence had a much different scale of what constituted a problem.

It sure as hell wasn’t human, so it sort of made sense that it didn’t consider what a human would find upsetting about the situation.

Most people would be ecstatic to get a go at essentially having the fountain of youth plugged into your chest. All the problems that the reactor being installed had caused him seemed to either vanish or even improve themselves.

He was no longer short of breath all the time due to his lungs being squished, there wasn’t any discomfort or pressure from the reactor’s housing pressing on his ribs or rubbing against anything, and overall it felt rather like the reactor wasn’t even there at all.

It felt like he’d been born with it. It felt completely natural and like it was supposed to be there. As much as he rather liked the changes now, before he knew what was going on, he had freaked the fuck out, and had attempted to deal with the problem like he dealt with most problems in his life: by throwing obscene amounts of money at it and fixing the problem himself, because regardless of mystical help from mysterious presences, if you wanted something done right, you did it your-own-damn-self.

* * *

Tony loathed the idea of going to a hospital to get scans or x-rays done, because hospitals meant doctors, and doctors meant people poking at the reactor and asking invasive questions about what was going on and  _ nopenopenope, _ not going there.

So he bought hospital-grade equipment and set up a miniature medical bay in his Malibu mansion and had JARVIS do all the scans. The results were not what he was expecting.

* * *

“Sir, are you sure there was shrapnel still in your chest cavity at the time the Starkanium Reactor was installed?” JARVIS asked. “Regrettably, I did not think to perform a before and after scan of your chest cavity, only the reactor itself.”

“Pfft, ‘installed’ sure, that’s one way to put it…and yes, I’m  _ very _ sure. I’m absolutely positive. It was sure as hell still there when I had Pep swap the old palladium one out for the stronger model. Went into cardiac arrest and everything. Hurt like a motherfucker.”

“Well, if you’ll take a look at the x-rays on screen, you appear to have miraculously recovered. Congratulations, Sir,” The AI said, sounding uncertain of himself.

“Whut?” Was his intelligent response.

He grabbed at the x-rays he’d been previously ignoring because he did not want to see just how fucked up his chest cavity was. The reactor ran  _ deep, _ displacing several important organs and blood vessels, and the thought of having to look at the way his lungs were squished and his heart and arteries were moved out of the way was nauseating to think about, let alone actually look at.

He looked at the scans, and sure enough, there was no shrapnel to be found. Not even the tiniest speck. It had somehow all vanished, along with all of the internal scarring from the original slapdash cave surgery.

His organs had shifted places again, and his lungs appeared to have changed shape slightly to accommodate for the reactor in a way that was distinctly impossible for human bodies to do. His heart had shifted positions slightly, and all of his major blood vessels had shifted positions as well, so that they flowed smoothly around the obstruction that was the reactor.

Actually, looking closer, it appeared as though his circulatory system had somehow  _ incorporated _ the reactor, weaving thousands of tiny capillaries around the base like the reactor was a third lung or other organ that required blood.

_ What in the name of Tesla…? _

“What in the absolute fuck am I looking at here? J, walk me through how to do a blood draw. The only thing I can think of is that the shrapnel somehow got absorbed into my bloodstream, but I’m just throwing shit at a wall and seeing what sticks. I need answers, and I need them  _ yesterday. _ Fucking look at my organs, J! Human bodies can’t just make their internal shit change shape on a fucking whim!”

“Yes Sir, I can see that, and I assure you, I am similarly alarmed. None of the simulations I ran predicted that this was even a possibility. Now, to perform a blood draw, you first…” JARVIS went on to explain the process and provide instructions as well as helpful—if slightly nauseating—tutorial videos.

He soon had a tube of his own blood, and began running an exhaustive analysis on it through the myriad of overpriced medical machinery he’d recently purchased.

The machines spat out results that made no sense.

“J, talk to me, what the hell am I looking at here?”

“It appears as though the shrapnel has been broken down internally but beyond that, I have no idea how the waste was disposed of. Logically, it should all be still inside your body, but I can find no trace of it. It has likely been broken down into particles too small for the machines to detect.”

“Okay, but how? Human bodies can’t break down metal like that! Shouldn’t it have like, gotten stuck in my kidneys or something?” Tony asked, frustratedly. This whole situation was bullshit and it was freaking him out. Yes, it was very good news for him, but it  _ shouldn’t have been possible. _

“If I may, Sir, it appears as though one of the machines detected an abnormally low amount of red blood cells, consistent with mild anemia. Have you had any symptoms consistent with anemia since returning from Afghanistan? Symptoms can include: extreme fatigue, weakness, pale skin, chest pain, fast heartbeat or shortness of breath, headache, dizziness or lightheadedness, cold hands and feet, inflammation or soreness of your tongue, brittle nails, unusual cravings for non-nutritive substances, such as ice, dirt or starch, and poor appetite.”

“Wait, actually, I have noticed that I don’t get hungry as often anymore, and when I do it’s for weird shit that isn’t food,” Tony said, frowning in remembrance.

“Like what, Sir?”

“Like, as in, my Allen wrenches looked particularly appetizing yesterday. I thought I was losing it and ate a roast beef sandwich instead, which helped a little. You’re saying I’m just anemic? Isn’t the cure for that red meat and stuff?”

“Yes, Sir. I recommend eating as much iron-rich food as you can stomach for the next few weeks. You have been experiencing decreased appetite?” JARVIS asked, worry evident in his slightly-mechanical voice.

“Yeah, is that bad?”

“By itself, it is not overly alarming, as mental trauma can have impacts on such things, but given the circumstances, it is suspicious. It might be related to what is happening with the reactor, or it might not. Have you noticed any significant weight loss or decreased amounts of body fat or muscle mass?”

“I…no. I actually gained back all the weight I lost while I was suffering from palladium poisoning, despite not really going out of my way to gain that weight back. I still weigh the same as I should, right? I haven’t noticed any of my clothes being too big suddenly, and I think I still look about the same as I did before…”

“Perhaps, Sir, it would be best to check? There is a scale off to your left.”

* * *

Tony stared at the digital number on the screen. He’d recalibrated the scale three times, and it gave him the same results.

“Why is the scale saying I’m about 12% heavier than I should have any right to be?”

“I…am unsure, Sir,” JARVIS replied. “I looked over all your other biometrics we’ve taken so far, and the only other abnormal result is the lowered red blood cell count. I highly recommend a density scan. Even accounting for the reactor and its casing, you are still heavier than you should be. Your BMI is normal, leaning towards the lower end of the scale, in fact. Even accounting for more muscle mass does not make the extra weight match.”

“Fuck, okay, which of these things can do a density scan?” Tony asked, gazing around at the collection of machines.

“The table-shaped one to your right, Sir.”

* * *

“Sir, it appears we have found the culprit. Both your bones and muscles are currently 1.2 times denser than they should be. Even accounting for the upper end of normal human bone and muscle density, your results far outstrip them. In fact, the closest to your results that I was able to find were the scans taken after Steven Grant Rogers received the Super-Soldier Serum.

Mr. Rogers’ average bone and muscle density was around 2.5 times the baseline human average, and Mr. Rogers weighed 403 pounds post-augmentation. You currently weigh 252 pounds, which is approximately 12% heavier than you should be for someone of your height and general BMI. Mr. Rogers was recorded to have bench-pressed a maximum of 1,375 pounds post-augmentation. Your personal best was 265 pounds, taken before Afghanistan. I highly recommend heading to the gym and testing yourself so that we have additional data.”

Tony inhaled, held it there for a moment, then released it, “Okay Jarv, let’s go lift some weights.”

* * *

“Sir, are you sure this is wise? You do not currently have a spotter. You have never attempted this much weight before, and we are not certain what effect the changes have had on your body.”

“J, sometimes you gotta run before you can walk. I just benched 300 pounds and it was easy. If Stars and Stripes benched over 1,300, I think I can try 450 with relatively little risk,” Tony replied, loading the bar up with more weight than he’d ever dared to try before.

“As you say, Sir,” JARVIS said, sounding perfectly polite, but Tony knew his AI was secretly judging all of his choices.

* * *

“That… _ hah _ …how much was that?” Tony asked, wiping sweat from his brow. Though he was tired, he did not feel as out of breath as he should have. The reactor hummed slightly louder in his chest, like it was mirroring the way his human heart was working harder at the moment.

“…Congratulations, Sir, you just lifted over 830 pounds, shattering the current world record of 770.”

“…Whut?” Tony said, shocked. He’d stopped paying attention to the numbers after he’d added more weight for the third time.

“You lift big number. Very strong. Much wow,” JARVIS said slowly, like he was talking to a caveman.

“The  _ sass _ I get from you! I should donate you to the DMV!” Tony threatened, though the effect was ruined by the fond smile on his face.

“Oh no, a regular work schedule dealing with reasonable people, whatever shall I do?” JARVIS deadpanned.

Tony barked a laugh, “Never change, J.”

* * *

After that little gym adventure, Tony had immediately headed to the kitchen and constructed a hearty sandwich. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he forced himself to finish it. Despite the way his body was telling him it wasn’t hungry, Tony couldn’t trust it at the moment. Who knows what was going on with it, so he was going to do his best to maintain a normal sleeping and eating schedule so that they could pinpoint the anomalies when they happened. While he busied himself with eating, JARVIS had examined his bloodwork in more depth and had discovered something rather alarming.

* * *

“What do you mean my DNA is changing?! Doesn’t shit like that usually, y’know, kill people? I feel like a million bucks!” Tony said as he looked over the results.

“The numbers don’t lie, Sir. It appears as though the energy of the Starkanium reactor is changing your body in unprecedented ways. Over the course of mere weeks, your chest cavity has rearranged itself to better accommodate and even incorporate the reactor into itself. Like a successful organ transplant, your body is growing new blood vessels around it and subtly shifting the surrounding tissues to help it integrate. Scar tissue has vanished, lung function has drastically increased in efficiency to make up for the slightly smaller lung capacity, and blood vessels have grown and shifted to form a complex network around the reactor, as if it is an organ in need of a blood supply.

I took the liberty of performing an energy signature scan, and discovered that the reactor’s unique brand of radiation is being carried through your bloodstream and now circulates through your entire body rather than remaining localized to the tissues in the reactor’s immediate vicinity.”

“So, what, I’m radioactive now? Do I need to quarantine myself?”

“No. The radiation is present inside your body, but it does not radiate past the barrier of your skin. Unless you bleed on someone, containment is not an issue, and even then, I hesitate to say that it would do anything. As we speak, the radiation present in the blood sample you took mere hours ago is almost gone.”

“So the reactor is producing radiation, but it doesn’t stick around for very long?” Tony clarified.

“It appears so, Sir. However, I would not recommend removing the reactor, as there is no telling how your cells will react to the loss of it. They appear to need a rather staggering amount of energy to function now, based on my observations of the rate of metabolic starvation and cell death in the sample. I believe that your cells now run primarily off of the electrical energy produced by the reactor, and less off of the energy produced by processing food. That is likely the culprit regarding your decreased appetite. You are not feeling hunger simply because your body is not hungry. It is getting all of its energy from drawing on the reactor.”

“So I’m really running off of battery power right now, like some kind of human-shaped appliance?” Tony questioned, eyebrows raising into his hair. Hair that seemed to have much less grey in it than it used to, now that he was looking for it.

“I believe the more accurate description would be that your metabolic processes now more resemble that of an electric bacteria, like this found in the  _ Shewanella _ or  _ Geobacter _ families, Sir. Such organisms thrive in low-oxygen environments and instead of oxygen, they perform cellular respiration using various metallic substances such as iron, which would explain your slight anemia.”

“Jarv, what’s the average length of time a human can hold their breath? I have a theory I wanna test,” Tony said, mind whirling.

“The average person can hold their breath from anywhere between 30 to 90 seconds with no special preparation beforehand. Mr. Rogers was recorded holding his breath for 15 minutes and 18 seconds post-augmentation with no prior preparation or breath training. The current world record for voluntary breath held by a non-enhanced individual is 18 minutes and 39 seconds, though they breathed in pure oxygen for 24 minutes prior to making the attempt,” JARVIS recited.

“Okay, on my signal, start a timer. If my cells really have changed like you say they have, then this is bound to be interesting. Okay, mark!” Tony said, inhaling deeply and then holding it there.

The minutes crawled by, and Tony felt no immediate urge to let out his breath. He had no idea how long he stood there, and he eventually shuffled his feet and started fidgeting nervously. How long had it been? It felt like forever, but he needed to know for certain.

Eventually, he felt his chest begin to tighten, but he kept going until he couldn’t hold it anymore and finally let it out and gulped in fresh air.

“How long was that, J?” Tony asked curiously. It didn’t take him very long at all to recover his breath.

“…It appears you have once again broken another record, Sir. You just held your breath for 25 minutes and 37 seconds with no prior training or preparation. Congratulations,” JARVIS said, sounding concerned.

Tony raked a hand through his hair, sighing.

“Okay, next theory. What’s the average human jaw strength, and what’s the strength of human tooth enamel vs iron?”

“The average human bite force is 162 PSI, and human tooth enamel ranks as a 5 on the Mohs Hardness Scale, while pure iron sits at a 4. Please, Sir, I highly advise rethinking whatever it is you are planning on doing. I would prefer to not call the paramedics today.”

“Hush, you. It’ll be fine,” Tony said, fishing a quarter-sized iron washer from a nearby toolbox. He stared at it contemplatively, idly turning it over and over in his hands.

Then he tossed it into his mouth and bit down.

The metal crunched between his teeth like a potato chip. The sharp metal shards didn’t shred his mouth, and it was like an explosion of pure flavor on his tongue. Something distinctly metallic, yet oddly savory with a hint of salt and some other indescribable flavor previously unknown to him. It tasted a bit like popcorn.

He chewed contemplatively, the loud crunching sounds echoing throughout the workshop.

JARVIS was repeatedly calling his name and trying to get his attention, but Tony was too distracted to answer at the moment.

“Jarv, I just discovered why my Allen wrenches looked so good. It’s because metal is fucking delicious and I now want to sample  _ everything.” _

“Sir?! Are you alright? Please tell me you did not just swallow a mouthful of metal shards! They could cause intestinal perforations and a myriad of other—!”

“Relax, J, it didn’t hurt and they didn’t even cut my mouth, when they really should have…one moment…” Tony said as he fished around for a utility knife. He had another theory to test.

* * *

JARVIS protested heavily to his theory testing, but did not call the paramedics after witnessing a brand-new box knife fail to cut his skin. Whatever was going on with his body had done more than just get rid of the shrapnel—it had fundamentally altered his very DNA and changed him into something else.

He was tougher, stronger, had more endurance, and continued getting denser and heavier as the weeks went by. His body seemed to incorporate the metal he ate into itself, binding elements to his bones and muscles in ways that baffled them both. A lot of things Tony could do now baffled them both.

Humans could not bite through solid steel, nor could they safely digest said steel, but Tony could. Humans could not hold their breath for half an hour, not even a super-soldier, but Tony could. Humans could not stick a USB cable into their mouths and suck power right out of an outlet, but Tony could. Humans could not go around sampling ball-bearings and brass couplings and eating literal nails for breakfast, but Tony could. Humans did not have telescopic vision comparable to the best sniper scopes or laboratory microscopes, but Tony did.

Tony could do a lot of things humans could not do. He found he rather had fun discovering all the things he could now do that he could not do before. He found it inordinately funny that his new favorite food was gold-titanium alloy. JARVIS found it significantly less funny, but JARVIS was a total buzzkill, so it didn’t count.

Tony soared through the wild blue yonder, reactor humming in his chest and vibrating the metal in his bones as he screamed his joy to the skies. The presence visited him in his dreams nearly every night, whispering forgotten things to him, and Tony marveled at it all. He built and invented and innovated, and catapulted his company to new heights, ones that weren’t built on bricks made of war-iron or painted with the blood of innocents.

He carefully researched Starkanium before presenting it to the world, after making sure it was safe from accidentally turning anyone else into some kind of biomechanical human. Turns out that so long as you didn’t implant a generator powered by it directly into your chest cavity, you were metaphorically golden.

Aside from his more youthful appearance and now molten-gold colored eyes, he didn’t really look all that different, for which Tony was thankful. He was already known for wearing sunglasses everywhere, even indoors, so it didn’t seem all that strange when he continued doing so anytime he had to make a public appearance.

Informing his friends about what was going on had been difficult, and Tony might have told a little lie or two, but he didn’t want them to worry. He was healthier than he’d ever been, and the future was looking bright. Tony blazed ahead, lighting the way for everyone else with the glow of the star in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we induct another member into the monster bros club! now we have the full set, yay! here we showcase alex not thinking about the consequences and how they interact with other people, but also a bit of self awareness over the fact that he knows he's a possessive bastard and that he doesn't care overly much about certain things.
> 
> i am a total sucker for extremis!tony, so i put my own little spin on it, and now we have biomechanical!tony! he enjoys long walks on the beach and relaxing with a nice bowl of gold-titanium chips to snack on.
> 
> i did actually somehow manage to include snippets of real-life facts and science. the electricty eating metal breathing bacteria are real, and i based most of the numbers in this fic off of real-life science facts and world records (even if the weight lifting one is outdated, some crazy bastard recently managed to bench over a thousand pounds) and i estimated steve rogers' numbers off of the best humanity has ever done and then bumping them up slightly.
> 
> tony's changes will be talked about more later, because he's still going through monster puberty. he'll definitely stay the most outwardly human-looking, but rest assured he's just as alterred as the rest of them! ;)
> 
> just imagine fury walking in on tony just casually nomming on some of shield's equipment b/c he got the munchies and forgot to bring his bag of snack-scraps, lol.
> 
> also u can bet ur ass fury is gonna be investigating chernobyl. he will then attempt to drink himself into a stupor and then get pissed because his rum is gone.
> 
> why is the rum always gone?
> 
> (it's because barton is a dirty vent goblin who hoards all the good shit in his vent-stashes)
> 
> SONG CREDIT
> 
> Loyal, Brave, True by Christina Aguilera for ‘Mulan (2020)’


	11. Nessie Ain't Got Shit on Us!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a filler chappie, but still, interesting things happen :D 
> 
> bruce finishes monster puberty and my bois have fun bonding and scaring the shit out of various people, all for different reasons!
> 
> as always, i am a comment whore, plz enable me
> 
> (srsly tho, i luv u guyz :3 )

Alex and Bruce traveled to all the forgotten corners of the globe. For nearly two years, they explored, wandering the world and enjoying life and each other’s company. They returned to Chernobyl every so often to rest and recuperate from the nomadic lifestyle.

Alex’s Hive had accumulated many tons of excess biomass as it filtered out the radiation from the surroundings and performed photosynthesis nonstop. He buried all the excess mass below the surface and began constructing a large interconnected web of tunnels all throughout the surrounding area to act as additional storage space.

He had big plans for all the extra mass, very, very  _ big _ plans.

The pair further developed their respective abilities, and it was soon discovered what the consequences of Alex’s intervention during that horrible day at Grayburn College meant for Bruce.

Alex had apparently passed on some of his traits to Bruce, mainly his capacity for adaptation.

* * *

“Um…pretty sure those weren’t there before. I thought you said I was done mutating!” Bruce said, worry starkly evident in his voice as he gently touched the new slits on the sides of his neck.

He and Bruce had been play-wrestling in the sea shallows in their preferred forms, seeing as how they were hundreds of miles from any known civilization in the middle of Buttfuck-Nowhere Alaska, and they attempted to repeatedly dunk each other under the waves, but Bruce had accidentally swallowed a bunch of seawater after getting smacked in the face with a particularly big wave.

He’d sputtered and complained that it made his sinuses and throat burn, but neither of them had thought much of it until after they’d dried off and Alex had spotted the strange new additions.

“You were supposed to be! Maybe something’s changed? I need to check…” Alex said as he threw himself into a meditative trance in order to figure out what the hell was going on with his friend’s body.

He delved into his connection to the otherworldly energies he and his friend possessed. Alex had made astounding progress with them after the ‘Grayburn Incident’ as he took to calling it, both with dreamwalking and using it through conduits that conducted such energies, as well as externally.

His energies were still much more difficult to control once they left his body, due to them becoming unstable after leaving his direct influence, but he’d found a way to use that to his advantage.

Void Energy was inherently destructive and chaotic, and when it destabilized, it tended to do so rather violently, usually in the form of an eldritch explosion. So now Alex could fire bolts of energy that broke reality when they detonated. This had the effect of warping the surroundings in unpredictable ways.

Sometimes it just caused destruction, but other times it would have other, more interesting effects, like transmuting one thing into something else, or disintegrating it, or warping it three feet to the left, or causing a tiny black hole that collapsed near-instantly. He didn’t have a ton of control over what effects happened yet, but he was working on it.

On one particularly memorable occasion, he’d somehow turned a rock into a pink cloud made of cotton candy that rained chocolate milk. Bruce had brooded for days trying to make sense of it.

Alex had laughed himself near to tears at the inadvertent reference. Bruce had no idea why he found it so funny, but Alex wasn’t about to tell him why.

The only thing was that he’d discovered that excessive use of his power in an external way tended to make him tired. It was sort of frightening, considering that he might actually make himself tired enough to fall asleep, which was absolutely unacceptable, so Alex limited his practice sessions to short bursts with lots of rest in between training sessions to prevent such a thing from happening.

It was sort of hilarious when he took a step back and thought about it. A horrid eldritch monstrosity capable of annihilating entire planets in weeks and with a mastery over the dream plane, and the thing that scared it most was a nap.

Anyway, when he examined his friend’s form using his ‘sixth sense,’ he’d discovered what was causing the issue. His friend’s energy pathways had settled completely, all the channels smooth and set in their locations, but there were now countless little pathways threaded through his entire self, like capillaries as compared to major veins and arteries.

The ones in his neck were more active than the others, and smelled like seawater.

Well, he said ‘smelled,’ but that wasn’t entirely accurate. It was the closest he could come to describing what it actually felt like though.

He had a theory as to what was going on, and he decided to test it out. He brought his awareness back to his body just enough to tell Bruce to relax and not fight what he was about to try.

Without waiting for a reply, he carefully touched Bruce’s energy with his own and tried to impress the idea of the ocean on it. The freezing temperatures of the deep sea, the crushing pressure, the absolute, all-encompassing darkness.

He felt the pathways light up and subtly shift themselves, and Bruce’s emotions jumped in panic briefly. Alex shook off the trance and opened his non-existent eyes, shaking his crested head to clear the mental fog that always seemed to linger after entering a trance.

“Alex! Alex, what did you do, please tell me this is reversible! I look like the creature from the black lagoon!” Bruce said, sitting on his haunches much like a dog or cat did and staring at the webbing that stretched between his fingers, as well as all of his other new additions.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine! I figured out what was happening, and it’s totally reversible! It’s like a metaphysical muscle, you’ll just have to learn how to flex it, like learning how to lift one eyebrow, or flare your nostrils. The gills were an adaptation your body activated after you choked on that seawater, and I just encouraged your entire body to adopt the same sort of feel,” Alex rushed to explain. He hated making his friend worry, especially over something that was technically his fault.

“Okay, okay, that’s good…” Bruce took a few deep breaths, his gills flaring out a little as he did so. “Okay, please explain exactly what’s happening and how I turn it off.”

“So I think what happened is that when I was trying to save your life back at Grayburn, your energies sort of imprinted on mine and took on some of its characteristics, mainly my proclivity for adaptation and evolution. You choked on some seawater, so your body made sure something like that wouldn’t happen again. Just like I can change anything about my form on the fly, you should be able to reverse or induce similar sorts of adaptations on your own body. Unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be able to use it to turn completely human. I think your normal form is basically your default, like mine is a tentacle ball made of murder and eyes.”

“Okay, that makes some amount of sense…any advice on how to turn back to normal? Or my weird, fucked-up version of normal at any rate?” Bruce said sardonically.

“Well, I encouraged your body to adapt to underwater conditions better by impressing what being in the deep ocean felt like on your energies, so maybe try thinking dry thoughts and then channeling your energies like you do when you want to be human-sized and pink?”

“…Dry thoughts?” Bruce said, unimpressed.

“Like what it felt like when we were hiking through the deserts or something you **lloigogkor’gep** _(smartass)!_ Alex hissed in mock-irritation, flicking his Bladed tail through the cold sand.

Bruce huffed fondly and closed his eyes in order to focus better, and Alex took the opportunity to examine the changes.

Growing from his spine and along the outsides of his arms and calves were spiny fishlike fins. Webbing grew between his fingers and toes, but it was his tail that had undergone the most change. It was much thicker overall, densely packed with muscle, and the club on the end had been exchanged for a set of spiny horizontal fins that trailed around the entire limb, looking a bit like a tadpole’s tail, only spinier and more intimidating. It was longer and paddle-like rather like a beaver’s tail, and it looked very sturdy despite the deceptively delicate-looking membrane. Bruce would be able to do a lot of damage with that tail if he decided to slap something with it. The horizontal nature of the large fin indicated that Bruce would swim more like a whale or dolphin than a fish.

Subtle patterns that looked to be small scales covered his body, and aside from the stuff found on his head and face, he didn’t seem to possess much in the way of body hair. His long pointed ears had turned into fins as well, looking like the decorative frills you might find on a dragon or sea-monster, though he knew that Bruce could still hear with them just as well as he could before. He didn’t appear to have an ear canal anymore, or if he did, it was covered with skin, which made sense. Underwater creatures didn’t have ear canals.

Additionally, even though they were closed now, Alex knew that his friend’s eyes had turned totally black like a shark’s, likely to let in more light when in super low-light conditions like those found at the bottom of the sea. His stripes and markings remained as prominent as ever.

All the changes looked like they belonged, and Alex thought it all looked very fetching on his friend. The deep green of his skin (or was it scales now?) tied everything together nicely, and Bruce really did look like he belonged in a deep-sea trench somewhere. Alex wondered what the changes would look like if his friend shrunk down into his smaller, pinker shape, and if the new changes would carry over.

Soon enough though, Alex felt his friend’s energies begin to fluctuate before they lost the ocean ‘scent’ and returned to normal. The fins seemed to fold away into his body, spines pressing flat and melting away into his green hide, tail shrinking in size and the section of fin near the end of the tail bunching up and reconfiguring into the familiar club.

Bruce blinked open his eyes, green and slitted like they usually were, and Alex’s friend was back to what he normally looked like. His long ears twitched and flicked around as he shook his head like a dog.

“Oh. That was…surprisingly easy…” Bruce muttered.

“Well, I mean, adaptation and evolution comes easier to me than breathing, so I’m not surprised you found it easy. See if you can bring the changes back, now that they happened once, they should be easy to recall. For me, it’s like saved templates on a computer. I just select the one I want that I ‘saved’ previously, and viola! Even more pointy things I can stab people with,” Alex grinned, flashing large fangs.

Bruce nodded distractedly and scrunched up his face in concentration. A shiver seemed to pass through his muscles, and the changes melted back into existence across his body, smoother than silk.

“That feels weird…kinda tingly and shivery,” Bruce mumbled.

“Wanna go take ‘em for a test drive? The Marianas Trench is a fascinating, alien place. I often find it hard to believe some of the things that live down there are really native to Earth, but the DNA doesn’t lie,” Alex said, hoping his friend would say yes. He sort of missed the deep-sea trenches. They were the closest he could get to the Void here on Earth.

Bruce blinked in surprise. “Do you think I could survive the kind of pressures found that deep?”

“It’d be more weird if you  _ couldn’t, _ in my opinion. Everything about your form screams ‘deep sea dweller’ to me right now. We can always take it slow and turn around if it starts getting uncomfortable for you. I think it’d be a good thing to test. Just one more place we can retreat to if the Thunderbitch ever gets too irritating.”

“True…alright, you’ve intrigued me. We can communicate either through the bond or Stripe Sign,” Bruce suggested.

‘Stripe Sign’ is what they’d ended up calling their little made-up language that used the flashing of different body parts and patterns to communicate, like a more-complicated version of Morse Code.

“Sounds good to me! Come on, there’s so much cool stuff I wanna show you!” Alex said excitedly, dragging his friend deeper into the freezing-cold Alaskan surf. Not that the temperature bothered either of them.

Bruce laughed as Alex shifted fins into existence on his Xenomorph form and forcibly dragged Bruce in after him.

* * *

Undersea exploration was even better with friends, Alex found, and they had a blast when they stumbled across a small submersible camera drone, likely owned by some marine biologist group. Alex turned into a horrid sea beast and proceeded to make stupid faces at the camera and posed for a series of increasingly-humorous photos while Bruce hid just out of frame, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all before they both swam off laughing and calling out to each other in low swooping tones similar to whale-song. Sound carried even better underwater, and they later had an underwater shouting contest with a pod of actual whales that Alex liked to think they’d won.

* * *

Bruce had no idea how long they’d been underwater, only that it had been at least a couple of months based on his sleeping and eating habits. Since Alex didn’t sleep, and it was dark as fuck down here, Bruce just slept whenever he got tired and ate when he was hungry.

Eating raw fish basically whole was only gross for a little while before he got over it. Sushi was delicious, and also something Bruce enjoyed, so it wasn’t really all that different.

Alex turned out to be right, and he’d been fine with the crushing pressure. In fact, he’d barely felt it. Alex showed him all the interesting places underwater, like the endless fields of Tube-worms and towering volcanic vents.

Even though his lungs held no air, he breathed just fine using his gills, and he’d quickly figured out how to echolocate using sound in the pitch-dark like Alex did, though they usually kept their markings glowing at least a little to better keep an eye on each other.

It was also good for luring in prey to eat, though not all deep-sea fish tasted good to Bruce. Alex had no preference, so he gave the tastier fish he managed to catch to the member of their little dynamic duo that couldn’t turn their taste buds off. 

Eventually though, they decided to return to the surface world, although they didn’t head directly for land just yet. Currently, Bruce was enjoying the Hawaiian sun as he basked on a rock a fair ways off-shore. Alex was somewhere down in the waves, likely hunting again, the insatiable thing he was.

Bruce was lulled into a doze, just on the edge of true sleep by the warm sun on his back and the sounds of gulls and waves, so he could perhaps be forgiven for failing to hear the sounds of the approaching boat full of tourists.

Bruce tended to sleep like the dead when he felt safe, and he had no reason to think he’d run into people this far out, but life had a funny way of fucking you over for making assumptions like that.

* * *

Bruce was jolted out of his deep dozing by the sounds of voices. Voices that weren’t Alex’s. His eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet, landing on all fours like a startled cat. His light-sensitive eyes were a bit blinded by the noonday sun, so he could only make out blurry shapes as he frantically blinked both sets of eyelids in a bid to clear them as quickly as possible.

His vision cleared, and his heart dropped into his feet. There was a large boat filled with tourists not too far from his current position. The advertisements on the side of the bright-yellow boat proclaimed it to be a whale-watching tour.

People were crowded up to the sides, pointing and taking pictures, gawking at him like he was a tiger in a zoo. Without thinking, he folded his ear-fins back and bared his shark-teeth and flaring his markings as bright as they could go in an instinctual threat display.

His dorsal fin was stretched high and bristling, like hackles on a dog. His claws dug into the rock below him. His growl reverberated through the air, deep and dangerous.

That only seemed to excite the people on the boat more, and his sensitive ear-fins detected the sounds of cameras clicking and people frantically talking on the phone.

The entire situation scared him and pissed him off simultaneously, so he did the only thing he could think of. Alex had been a terrible influence. He raised one arm, flipped everyone on the boat off, and dove off the rock into the warm Hawaiian waters, intent on finding his friend and getting the hell out of there.

With a flick of his powerful tail he was off, frightened and fuming about the situation.

* * *

“Sir, we’ve located Dr. Banner, and you won’t believe where we found him,” Hill announced as she strode into Fury’s office and dumped a large stack of reports on his desk. “Despite independently verifying the information half a dozen times, I can still hardly believe it. We’ve got a major situation regarding information containment right now,” She continued. “We’re managing, but it’s a close thing. He was spotted by nearly thirty tourists at once, and…well.”

“Why don’t you sum it up for me, I’m up to my eyeball in work right now,” Fury said. “So where’d the good doctor finally turn up?”

“Off the coast of Hawaii.”

“‘Off the coast?’” Fury asked, raising his one visible eyebrow and flipping open the top-most file. He stopped dead and gave the report his undivided attention. “Hill, what in the fresh funky fuck am I looking at? Is this some photoshop amateur’s idea of a joke?”

“No, sir. That photo is real and undoctored, according to all our analysts. They checked. Repeatedly. Multiple times.”

Fury just looked up at her in disbelief before returning his gaze to the series of photos. He spread them out across his desk and marveled.

“It’s like if the little mermaid was a horror movie,” He deadpanned. “Man disappears for damn-near a year, and he shows back up as the creature from the goddamn black lagoon. Christ on a bike, it doesn’t rain but it fucking pours. Do we know if any of his mental faculties are intact? Do we have any idea when this change happened?”

“No clue on an exact timeline, sir. As for his mental faculties, there’s a picture on form 3A.”

Fury flipped to the right page and had to bite back a laugh at the sight. He settled for a small smirk of amusement at the sight of the Hulk looking like a pouting child as he flipped off an entire boat full of tourists for seemingly interrupting his nap. A pouting child that had shark teeth. And fins. And a tail. Jesus tap-dancing Christ.

“I’m too sober for this shit…” He groused.

“You and me both, sir,” Hill added, looking amused. “Should we amend his potential Avenger status?”

“No, not yet. The fact that he just flipped the boat off and fucked off into the sea means he isn’t immediately overtly hostile to something that might be considered a threat, and has enough awareness to understand what flipping the bird means. This is good news, for the most part. Given that he’s still breathing air without issue by the looks of it, he can still function just fine on land. Getting a hold of him and keeping tabs on him just became a major pain in the ass, but ultimately this doesn’t change much. Keep Banner on file as a potential candidate until further notice.”

Hill nodded, “I’ll leave you to it then, sir.”

Fury just nodded. Strange that the report indicated that Bright Eyes was nowhere to be seen. The two were basically attached at the hip and seemed rather co-dependent on one another.

The pair had spent almost a year wandering the Middle East and the upper parts of Africa making a name for themselves as a traveling doctor capable of miraculous feats of healing, though reports suggested that most of the miracles were the result of Bright Eye’s intervention. It seemed that the good doctor was a positive influence on it, with reports of less disappearances following in the creature’s wake as the pair traveled the world.

Then, the pair had seemingly dropped off the face of the Earth for a period of several months, with the only clue to their whereabouts being the report of a ‘huge, black sea-monster with glowing blue eyes’ being spotted by a marine biologist group. The group seemed oddly superstitious though, and they had destroyed any data they’d gotten on the creature, so all they’d had to go off of were eyewitness accounts, which were notoriously unreliable.

However, it seemed that the group had been telling the truth, since it appeared likely that Banner and Bright Eyes had been spending their time down in the depths. It painted a slightly concerning picture, considering that Banner had likely been the Hulk for the entire period, going off of the extensive secondary mutations the beast had undergone.

What did that mean for Banner’s regular self? Had the changes actually occurred earlier? It would explain the weird obsession Banner seemed to have with covering himself up all the time. What had caused the shift in the first place? There were too many questions and not enough answers.

All he was waiting on now were the reports from Chernobyl. He’d authorized orbital surveillance on the place and ordered a team to go in with camera drones and investigate.

There was to be absolutely  _ no _ in-person intel-gathering, considering the fucking maybe-Xenomorph hive that might be lurking there. He’d seen all the movies and wasn’t about to just send good agents into  _ that _ meat-grinder. That was just asking for something horrible to happen.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face before reaching for a familiar cabinet. He pulled open the hidden drawer and pushed aside a few empty bottles before pulling one out. It had barely any left and he scowled fiercely.

“Why is the rum  _ always _ gone?”

* * *

Alex and Bruce swam for familiar shores after the encounter in Hawaii. It was their last stop before they returned to Chernobyl for the next few weeks. Alex wanted to check up on his Hive, and Bruce sort of missed it too, no matter how much fun the ocean was.

Alex enjoyed coming up with new terrifying forms based on all kinds of things that they’d discovered lurking beneath the waves. After spending some time watching eels of all varieties, Alex had created a new form template for underwater travel: a large eel-like sea monster from hell that he called his Unagi form.

Jet black and sporting the pair’s iconic stripes done up in Alex’s signature blood-red, he cut an intimidating figure as he effortlessly slid through the water. It sported black-spined fins with deep red membranes stretched between them, and on the front were four enormous mandibles that sort of resembled his blades, only wider and more wedge-shaped. They formed a complete beak-like shape on the front of his form and opened in a diagonal X pattern, revealing his lamprey-like mouth ringed with a seemingly endless amount of teeth. 

On the sides of his immense head curled large ram’s horns big enough to cradle Bruce in their curve. It was a very comfortable place for a nap, and Alex enjoyed the closeness, so it was a place Bruce found himself snuggling into pretty often.

If Bruce had not known that such a creature was merely his friend in a new shape, he probably would have crapped his non-existent pants at the sight of something that large and made of  _ nope _ lunging out of the dark at him.

Speaking of which: pants. Bruce had a bit of an interesting relationship with clothing these days. When he was smaller and pink, he covered himself up and did his best to disguise and hide his inhuman features, since he didn’t want to be attacked by an angry mob wielding pitchforks and torches. He did his best to watch his growls and other vocalizations so he didn’t blow his cover, but out here in the ocean, where no one was around to see him but Alex? He didn’t give a flying fuck and metaphorically let it all hang out.

He said metaphorically, because after Bruce got frustrated the umpteenth time his loincloth came loose while he was swimming, his body had taken it upon itself to fix the problem of his bits being constantly exposed by making it so they were no longer exposed at all.

That had been an interesting morning, waking up to think his dick had fallen off in his sleep or something equally horrifying, but no. Just like most non-mammals found in nature, his bits had tucked themselves completely away inside his body to better protect them when he wasn’t using them for things like going to the bathroom.

After he had confirmed that he still, in fact, had all his parts, he’d calmed down a lot. Looking down and not seeing anything had taken a long time to get used to though. For days there was always that split-second panic of  _ ‘oh god, where’s my dick?!’ _ Before his brain engaged and he remembered. That had been an embarrassing week.

Alex had teased him relentlessly for being so hung up about such a relatively minor adaptation, saying that humans were oddly concerned with reproduction and their own ability to do so when the world had seven billion people and climbing already infesting the planet.

Bruce had tried to explain the concept of body horror to him, but his shapeshifting friend hadn’t really seemed to get it. He understood that sudden changes to one’s body were generally very distressing for most humans, but he didn’t seem to really understand  _ why. _

Bruce supposed that when your whole body was under your constant control and could reconfigure itself into anything, the concept wouldn’t make much sense or seem very scary at all.

Bruce had eventually gotten over the fact that his junk was now internal instead of just hanging out for the world to see, and eventually found he rather liked the fact that pants were now pretty low on his list of immediate concerns.

It was very freeing, and he sort of understood the philosophy of nudists better. He still thought it was a rather dumb practice for normal humans to subscribe to, considering that most men would be incapacitated if they sat down wrong, and that it wasn’t practical in most places due to temperature concerns.

Regardless, Bruce found himself caring less and less about most things humans would consider rather large issues, such as pants and making sure that your food was not still struggling when you ate it, but meh. Not like he could really rejoin society in any meaningful capacity, so why concern himself over things that had no relevance to his life anymore?

* * *

The pair swam across the Pacific Ocean and lingered around Japan for a short while, where they’d somehow managed to get themselves into another incident. Bruce had zoned out while swimming near the silty seabed, and had somehow managed to swim right into a net. He was so startled by the sturdy ropes wrapping around him that he failed to react in time to get himself out of the net before he became thoroughly entangled. His many spines got caught on everything and the ropes pulled uncomfortably on them.

While he could have easily ripped through the net, he hesitated to do so. He had no idea what these people’s financial situation was like. This could very well be their entire livelihood, and if he just ripped it to shreds to get away, whoever owned the net or the boat might suffer significantly trying to replace it.

Bruce had starved before, had been completely destitute, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone, let alone for something that was technically his fault for not paying attention to where he was going.

So he remained as still as he could manage as he was pulled upwards. He sent out a mental signal to Alex so the alien wouldn’t completely flip his shit and murder everyone on the boat. Alex was understandably upset but conceded to Bruce’s wishes like he always did.

Bruce privately marveled over the fact that his friend ever listened to him in the first place. Alex was like a vicious hurricane or a towering tsunami. He was a force of nature, and completely unstoppable when he really got going, and yet, if Bruce gave the word, Alex would find a way to pull the sun from the sky to give to him.

Bruce felt himself get hauled up, the net held over the side of the boat with a crane-like device. He twisted his flexible body around in the tangled mess as much as he was able, and faced the fishermen on the boat.

The boat was old and had definitely seen better days, which made him doubly glad he hadn’t just decided to tear his way free. He doubted these people had the money to just buy a new net.

The crew appeared to consist of only three people, an older man and a woman, with a much younger man that bore a resemblance to the first two. He scented the air in curiosity. All three shared a similar undertone to their scents.

_ Yep, definitely related. Must be a tiny little family operation. _

Currently, all three members were staring up at him in horror and terror, and Bruce visibly winced, ear-fins folding back. He hated the looks of fear he always received. He hated being feared, but it was just an unfortunate truth of his new body. Everyone would always fear him. Everyone except Alex.

Unfortunately, Bruce didn’t speak a lick of Japanese, but he tried to communicate anyway.

“Please, I mean no harm. Just let me untangle myself and I will leave. I swam into your net by accident, I’m sorry,” He enunciated slowly and carefully in English, making sure there wasn’t a hint of hissing or growling in his speech.

The family continued gaping like fish, before the son stepped forward in front of his parents protectively.

“You…English?” The son said in halting, heavily accented English.

“Yes. Please, I mean no harm. Get me free and I will leave,” Bruce said again.

The young man frowned as he tried to parse the sentence before cautiously nodding.

“Make free, then goodbye?”

“Yes,” Bruce said.

The man turned around and addressed the older couple in rapid-fire Japanese before making his way to the controls by the arm of the crane responsible for holding the net.

The old thing creaked and groaned before it slowly swung around and deposited him on the cold metal deck. The old man came over and unhooked the net from the crane and began the arduous process of trying to untangle Bruce.

The whole song and dance went on for several minutes with little-to-no progress being made. Bruce had well and truly trapped himself. He could hear Alex’s anxious, rumbling calls reverberate through the deck of the old fishing trawler, and the family all looked around in alarm at the sound. Alex was getting antsy, and Bruce saw the way a broad, blood-red fin with black spines cut through the waves, circling the boat. Alex had taken on a much larger form, it appeared, likely out of nerves. He tended to take on bigger and more intimidating forms when he got nervous, and judging by the size of the fin, he’d gone full Unagi.

Not good. Alex was likely to just shred the net and snatch him off the boat after giving the family the scare of their lives or maybe just eating the entire boat, people and all, no matter what Bruce told him. That was really the only time Alex didn’t listen to him.

If Alex thought Bruce to be in legitimate danger, he’d disregard everything to make sure he was safe, no matter what Bruce told him to the contrary.

Unfortunately, Bruce’s spines were caught on everything, so if he wanted to free himself in a timely manner, he’d have to transform in front of these people, which was something he’d really rather avoid. Ross was bound to come running and make these people’s lives hell just for being in any way even tangentially related to him.

Alex thrummed out a warning call, and the family was watching the enormous fin circling the boat with terrified eyes. Bruce rumbled out a warning for Alex to let him handle it, which only served to scare the poor family more.

_ Fuck it, they’re all about ready to keel over from a heart attack, I just need to get the fuck out of here ASAP before Alex blows a gasket. _

He twisted the energy inside of himself and groaned in discomfort as he compressed himself and shoved his excess mass into the ether until he needed it again.

The people stared with huge eyes as his fins melted away and his scales turned from green to human-pink. He hissed in annoyance as he disentangled his smaller form from the net. He threw it off, finally free, and all but tossed himself over the edge into the waves, shifting back as soon as he was submerged. He sucked in cool seawater through his gills and swam away as quickly as he could, with Alex’s enormous Unagi form pulling up next to him.

Bruce swam up to grip a large ramlike horn curling out from the sides of Alex’s head, rumbling and tucking himself into the large curve of the horn to let his friend know he was okay. Cradled in the little space created by the way the horn curled, Bruce felt absolutely safe, and Alex rumbled in a pleased way at the way his energies settled from their anxious thrumming. The pair swam off towards the mainland, intending to follow the coast and swing around the tip of India to sneak their way up through the Suez Canal to eventually reach the shores of Ukraine.

Behind them, the small family of three watched as the enormous fin slipped beneath the waves and vanished without a trace. They all simultaneously agreed to call it a day and go home.

After encountering not one, but two unknown sea-beasts, they were all just about ready to give up on fishing altogether, but their family had been fishing for five generations and they weren’t about to break that tradition, but it really had been enough excitement for one day.

* * *

The pair of monsters soon put the encounter behind them and focused on making their way home, though they still stopped to explore coral reefs and sample some of the local wildlife on the way.

Alex had fun scaring surfboarders and scuba divers out of their skin and they otherwise had a nice time in and around India before they swam further west and up through the Red Sea.

They snuck through the Suez Canal by hiding underneath one of the larger shipping vessels going through the canal during the night. After entering the Mediterranean Sea, they swam North to enter the Black Sea and made landfall on the Ukrainian coast.

Returning to land after living almost exclusively in the water for so long was an interesting transition. Bruce felt heavy and oddly grounded. He no longer had the option of complete omnidirectional movement. Well, he could still jump like a motherfucker, but that would have attracted way too much attention.

Alex retrieved his clothes, and Bruce returned to his smaller, marginally more human form, and for longer than a few seconds this time. It was rather strange to see Alex as a human again after so long. He’d never taken human form during their underwater adventure. Bruce couldn’t seem to shake the thought that seeing his friend in a human shape looked wrong, somehow. Humanity didn’t seem to suit Alex, but then again, it didn’t seem to suit Bruce much these days, either.

* * *

Bruce scowled as he tugged on his much-hated boots. Clothes were dumb, but shoes were the worst. Bruce hated shoes. And pants. So confining and uncomfortable.

He’d had to shift his fins away in order to more comfortably fit into his clothes, and he felt oddly bereft. He’d gotten rather used to them, and he found he’d prefer to keep them out. They helped him sense vibrations much better, and his senses felt oddly muted as he covered himself up further. He didn’t like it, but he only had to wear the dumb things until they got home to the Hive.

He felt rather weak and vulnerable in his smaller form compared to his larger one, and he didn’t like it. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Alex always had his back and wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

He kept his scales though. Not like anyone would see them beneath the clothes, and they were a bit tougher than his regular skin was anyways. He finished dressing by donning his leather gloves to hide his small hooked claws and climbed onto the saddle that shifted itself into existence on Alex’s back.

Walking with the stupid boots on was a pain in the ass—and feet—so Alex often carried him around on horseback to ease the ache. He gave his best friend a nice skritch behind the ears and the two were off. It was time to head home and see how everything had been doing in their absence.

* * *

The journey was long, but the two of them were finally home. Alex checked in with his Hive and was pleased to note that the rate of biomass generation had increased by a few percent. He tweaked a few things to increase the efficiency of photosynthesis and went to see how Bruce was settling back in.

He’d accumulated many hundreds of tons of biomass, and all he had to do now was wait for SHIELD to come knocking. He’d absorb all the extra stockpile before they left Chernobyl to go wandering again, and that way he’d have the biomass necessary to pull off his latest crazy idea when the Battle of New York was in full swing.

He had to let the universe know that he was not to be fucked with, and neither was anything he considered his. His stunt would make just about everyone on Earth absolutely shit bricks, but he didn’t care.

After the initial fuckery was dealt with, he could start getting all his ducks in a row before Thanos came knocking. With any luck, he’d take care of the problem before the stupid Death-obsessed grape ever got within a hundred parsecs of Earth.

* * *

The two of them had lazed around in Chernobyl for only a few weeks before they decided to move on again, and this time Alex had suggested the lesser-populated regions of India. It was getting close to the time SHIELD would be making a move, so Alex wanted to keep everything as consistent as possible to make sure everyone ended up being where they were supposed to be for him to have the most reliable future knowledge.

Before the pair departed Chernobyl though, Alex absorbed all the mass that he’d been gathering for literal years, and hoped it was enough to pull off what he had planned. It was many hundreds of tons of mass, but it was no more straining to use his powers to negate the weight than it had been before. He loved being able to cheat physics like that.

* * *

Fury glared at the two new reports on his desk. One was on the Chernobyl situation, and the other was yet another report on Banner and Bright Eyes. He decided it was best to start with the devils he sort-of-knew, and opened the file on Banner’s latest incident.

Remarkably, he felt better about the situation after reading it. Banner had apparently achieved some form of control, enough to sort-of communicate while he was Hulk, at any rate. That boded well for the plan to add Banner to the Avengers Initiative. Bright Eyes could also apparently become a fuck-off huge sea-monster, which was good intel to have. Other than that, nothing much was reported, so the file was fairly small.

He moved on to the larger and more detailed report of the Chernobyl Clusterfuck, as he’d taken to calling it.

And sweet Jesus, what the fuck was  _ that? _

Fury rubbed his temples. Well, there was definitely a hive of some sort in the ruins of the reactor complex. It had overtaken damn-near the entire building, with what appeared to be large tentacles of flesh and  _ NOPE _ growing over everything. What appeared to be doors resembled either mouths or sphincters, depending on which way you looked at it, and the entire place pulsed with its own heartbeat, streaks of crimson shooting across its surface occasionally.

_ That’s fucking disgusting. Guess I’m skipping lunch then. Fuck. _

Fury poured over the report, where they noted the hive and some of its interior, and the distinct lack of Xenomorphs of any kind. The hive was empty as far as they could tell, and nothing bothered or attacked the camera drones, which begged the question:  _ where the fuck did it fucking go? _

Fury growled and reached for his alcohol drawer that seemed to be running distressingly low these days.

* * *

It had been a massive shock to Bruce to find out that they’d been bumming around underwater for nearly a year. He’d written Betty a letter explaining that he was doing much better than before, and that avoiding Ross hadn’t been a problem, and that he’d finally come to control his ‘anger management issues’ at the cost of not really looking human anymore. He hadn’t explained any more than that, just telling her not to worry and that he’d come to terms with his new existence and that he was happier than he’d been in, well…ever.

And it was even true. Despite so many things no longer being real options for him anymore, he was happier than he could ever remember being. Even before the accident when he’d been together with Betty there had always been the burden of expectations and responsibilities, and he’d never really felt like he belonged.

Deep down, he’d always considered himself a freak, an outcast. His father hadn’t taught him much, but the things he’d managed to hammer into Bruce’s head stuck around long after the man was gone. Betty had been fantastic, but while he’d treasured her words of support and fervent declarations, part of Bruce had always been reserved, never fully trusting what anyone had to say.

Opening up was difficult, nearly impossible, and after the accident, the pipe dream of acceptance had blown away like smoke in the wind.

That was before Alex. Bruce found he could separate his life into three distinct time periods. Pre-accident, post-accident, and post-Alex.

Alex wasn’t human and had none of the usual human hang-ups for Bruce to inevitably trip over. There was just easy acceptance, and that was it. Alex loved him unconditionally, and Bruce could actually feel it. There was no way Alex could lie to him about that.

It was one thing for someone to tell you they loved you. It was another thing for someone to tell you they loved you and for you to believe them. It was all entirely different from someone connecting their mind to yours and baring their soul to you, and all you could find was love and acceptance, no matter how deep you looked.

Alex held zero fear of him. Never had, never would. Despite Betty’s support, he could still tell that she had been scared of him on some level when they’d reunited that day at the hotel, no matter how much she shoved those feelings down and denied them. Bruce didn’t blame her at all or resent her for it. It was just common sense really, and he had gravely injured her before when he’d gone green for the first time.

Alex was the only one who Bruce knew beyond the shadow of a doubt would never fear him. Bruce was Alex’s entire world, and that realization had done something profound for Bruce and his psyche.

And so Bruce stopped caring what humanity and other people thought of him, on some level, at least. Disgust and fear and rejection still stung, and he suspected it always would.

Alex’s opinion was the only one that really mattered though, and that suited Bruce just fine. Let the world fear and hate him. What had the world or humanity ever done for him? Betty was the exception, not the rule, so it didn’t count.

So where other people might have had a mental breakdown over such drastic body modifications or the mere thought of swallowing a fish while it was still alive and struggling, Bruce was fine. Oh, sure, it had been a bit rough in the beginning, but he’d adjusted.

He looked in the mirror and saw only himself now. There was no beast, no ugly monster. It was just him, and he was powerful and deadly, and he found he rather liked it that way. If he was powerful and strong, he could defend himself from anyone that might attack him, and considering that he’d be attacked whether or not he was strong or weak, Bruce decided that he’d rather be strong.

While others may have found his scales and fins to be freakish deformities, Alex looked at him and declared him and all his quirks beautiful, and so Bruce had come to see himself through that lens.

Didn’t mean that he wasn’t annoyed at the world for the way it treated him. Oh no, on the contrary, he was quite furious that he had to hide himself away and live on the fringes of society because people were judgmental assholes, but as long as he had Alex, everything was alright.

God have mercy on whatever poor, unfortunate souls tried to take them away from each other, because neither of them were about to take that lying down.

_ Let them come. Let them come and try to harm me and mine.  _ ~~_ (They won’t live long enough to regret it.) _ ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yea. so excited for next chappie, we finally get into avengers territory there, eff yeah! lot different from my og in certain places. bruce has just run out of fucks to give, and other people will just have to learn to deal, lol.
> 
> just in case anyone's curious, bruce can do other stuff than just look like a sea monster, which will get looked at a couple chappies down the line. ;D
> 
> bruce and alex are gonna turn fury into an alcoholic, lol. (bold of you to assume he wasn't one already XD )
> 
> no songs for this one, but i make up for that next chappie!
> 
> PS, do you guys like the songs or are they annoying? i know song-fics aren't everyone's cuppa, but im just curious. i don't think i can cut them out completely since songs are tied into the lore of my AU, but i can maybe reduce the number if you guys find them annoying to read around or whatevs :P


	12. Somebody Call an Emergency Meeting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo!! we finally here!! avengers arc, yes!!
> 
> i read all your comments, and so i tried out a new song format that's hopefully less jarring, and i included LINKS!! now you can listen along! PLZ NOTE that i changed a few lyrics for some of the songs to fit the story better, so you should still read the lyrics i put in the story for reference.
> 
> PLZ PLZ PLZ let me know if shit's broken or doesn't work for you, i want everything to be smooth!
> 
> without further ado, plz enjoy my fucking massive chapter!

Natasha quietly cursed out anyone and everyone she could think of that was responsible for her current assignment.

Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, AKA The Motherfucking Hulk, who could probably kill her by sneezing on her, and who would absolutely kill her if she played her cards wrong.

_Why do I have to be the one to retrieve Dr. Banner? Sometimes I hate being the only female field agent with a security clearance high enough for this kind of shit. He’s out in the ass-end of Buttfuck-Nowhere, India, and can turn into a rage-filled sea monster at the drop of a hat. Why me?_

_Oh wait, I know. It’s because those stupid fucks in the WSC think that Dr. Banner will fall for a honeypot. Right. The guy who evaded basically the entirety of the US Army for years is gonna fall for a distracting pair of boobs. God, why do men in power insist on thinking with their dicks so much? Lord knows how Bright Eyes will react to me trying to bring Dr. Banner in, no matter how I end up doing it. If I can even pull this off. If I die for this bullshit, I am SO haunting the shit out of the WSC from now until the end of time._

All the locals insisted that the miraculous ‘Witchdoctor’ slept somewhere out deep in the jungle each night and returned to the small village in the morning each day. The villagers had all offered him a hut of his very own so that he could have some privacy, but the man had insisted on staying in the godforsaken jungle for whatever reason.

Natasha once again cursed everyone she could think of as she trekked through the dense foliage, idly slapping at any bugs that tried to land on her. Bugspray could only do so much against the relentless mosquito swarms that infested the place.

_God, how does he stand it? The weather is atrocious, not to mention the bugs! Ugh, I’m SO taking some time off with Clint after all this bullshit is over with. We’ll get out of this together, we always do. I just gotta recruit Banner and Bright Eyes without being smashed into paste or being mysteriously disappeared, they’ll locate the cube, I’ll taser Loki in the dick and get Clint back, and then we can go have a spa day. Yeah…I’m so fucked, aren’t I?_

She was drawn out of her pessimistic thoughts…by the sound of music? This far out into the jungle? Where was it even coming from?

[Her thoughts were brought to a screeching halt by the sound of an inhumanly deep bass voice beginning to sing.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ru2iXbzYi-M)

> _“People tell me I'm a fish out of water, I don't fit. Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! I'm the wrong chemical mix, like a monkey that ain't got no tricks! Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you don't treat me like that!”_

She crept around a thick tree trunk, and caught sight of something that made her heart thunder in her chest. There was the Hulk, not twenty feet away from her, big and green and bristling with fishlike fins, absolutely belting out a song that had some rather concerning lyrics, considering the current situation.

The beast appeared to be prancing around on all fours, dancing in some strange way and occasionally rearing up to spin around and gesticulate with its enormous green arms that were thicker around than the tree she was hiding behind. 

> _“Nothing wrong with my posture, just a beautiful monster, and there's no kind of remedy I need for being me!_
> 
> _Baby, swing your body, body round and round, run like a lion, run like a lion! Chase the fire when the sun goes down, run like a cheetah, all the way to Zion now! Natural animal, oh, you know savage is my style! Swing your body, body round and round, round, like it wild, yeah, I like it, like it wild!_
> 
> _Coo-coo-coo-doo, I like it, like it wild! Coo-coo-coo-doo, I like it wild! Natural animal, oh, you know savage is my style! Swing your body, body round and round, round!_
> 
> _My inner demon is bizarre, I'm a livin' avatar! Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, yeah, yeah, yeah! Got a twisted repertoire, all my weirdness is a work of art! Yeah, yeah, yeah, and you see me like that!_
> 
> _Nothing wrong with my posture, just a beautiful monster, and there's no kind of remedy I need for being me!”_

The beast roared out, and it was a savage sound, but one that was filled with joy and freedom. Music pulsed and echoed from nowhere and everywhere, and Natasha finally spotted its source. Bright Eyes was in the form of some kind of bird, she couldn’t make out exactly what kind it was from here, and it was bobbing its head and dancing as well. It was sort of comical to watch, as birds weren’t really built for grace on the ground.

> _“Baby, swing your body, body round and round, run like a lion, run like a lion! Chase the fire when the sun goes down, run like a cheetah, all the way to Zion now! Natural animal, oh, you know savage is my style! Swing your body, body round and round, round, like it wild, yeah, I like it, like it wild!_
> 
> _Coo-coo-coo-doo, I like it, like it wild! Coo-coo-coo-doo! Natural animal, oh, you know savage is my style! Swing your body, body round and round, I like it wild!_
> 
> _Baby, swing your body, body round and round, run like a lion, run like a lion! Chase the fire 'til the sun goes down, run like a cheetah, all the way to Zion now! Baby, swing your body, body round and round, run like a lion, run like a lion! Chase the fire 'til the sun goes down, run like a cheetah, all the way to Zion now! Natural animal, I'm a savage, oh, you know savage is my style! Swing your body, body round and round, round, like it wild, yeah, I like it, like it wild!_
> 
> _Like it wild, coo-coo-coo-doo! Like it wild, yeah, I like it, like it wild! Coo-coo-coo-doo, wild!_
> 
> _Like it wild, yeah, I like it, like it wild!”_

Natasha had only looked away for a second, just a second, but when she looked back to the rock, Bright Eyes was gone. She had only just begun to turn her head to look around when something hit her unexpectedly from behind, knocking her to the ground. She attempted to turn her fall into a roll to get away, but whatever had impacted her clung to her back and forced her flat to the jungle floor.

Whatever it was was damn heavy, and Natasha’s ribs screamed at her as they fought to expand enough for her to breathe. The weight lessened slightly after a few short seconds, but it was clearly pressing on her spine from between her shoulder blades, and the warning was clear.

“What have we here? A little spider, lost and all alone? How… _curious_ …” A voice hissed from above her, male yet multi-toned and clearly pissed at being spied upon. It wasn’t the Hulk holding her down, considering she could still make out the edges of the beast’s digitigrade legs from out of the corner of her vision. It hadn’t moved, so it must be Bright Eyes that was pressing down on her.

“Bright Eyes, I presume,” She said, trying to sound calm. “I mean no harm, I’ve only come to talk.”

“Only to talk, hmmm? Then all those soldiers in the bushes must not be allies of yours, surely? How convenient, I was feeling a bit peckish. So kind of you to bring me dinner, Romanova, I appreciate the consideration. _Your_ death will be painless,” Bright Eyes hissed, and Natasha felt the point of a knife press against her spine. Her mind was whirling with the implications of its words, as well as fear.

“Alex, no. Let’s find out why she’s here first,” The Hulk rumbled. It seemed incredibly coherent. Maybe Dr. Banner had finally achieved control?

“I can eat her and still do that, you know,” Bright Eyes, Alex apparently, remarked flatly. Natasha’s mind raced with questions.

“I know, but let’s not go making any more enemies than we already have,” The Hulk stated blandly.

“Tch, fine,” Alex said flippantly. The blade disappeared, and the weight followed after it. Natasha swiftly rolled to her feet, and stumbled back a couple of steps once she realized what she was looking at.

 _Well, I guess I just solved the mystery of the Chernobyl Beast,_ She thought faintly, shock numbing her mind for a few seconds. It wasn’t every day that you were faced with a Xenomorph Queen, after all.

“Well?” The creature hissed. “You are here, ruining our evening. This had better be good,” It rasped angrily, peeling back a simulacrum of lips to bare razor fangs longer than her fingers in a sneer.

“I-I’m Natasha Romanoff, here on behalf of SHIELD, Director Fury, more specifically. We’re facing a potential global catastrophe,” she said, only a slight stutter at the beginning that betrayed her true feelings.

“Oh, those we _actively_ try to avoid,” The Hulk chuckled, his deep voice vibrating the dirt beneath her feet.

“What are you talking about? You hang out with me every day,” Alex said, sounding confused.

“Global catastrophes _other_ than you,” The Hulk replied, also sounding amused.

Natasha took the opportunity to retrieve the phone she’d been given for the mission. She pulled up a picture of the Tesseract and held it out to show them. “This is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipeout the planet,” She said mildly.

The Hulk approached and Natasha carefully did not react, not even when it leaned forward, or when a clear nictitating membrane slid sideways across its eyes before retreating.

The beast blinked normally a couple of times, as if it was confused before it leaned back and looked towards its companion. “Hey Alex, isn’t that one of…?”

“Yes,” It hissed. “A Cosmic Fulcrum. I knew the source must be powerful for me to feel it even with it so dampened, but _this…”_ It shook its large crested head, and Natasha resolved to get answers out of it later if at all possible. It clearly knew things about the Tesseract that were unknown to SHIELD.

“What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?” The Hulk asked incredulously.

“He wants you to find it. It’s been taken. It emits a Gamma signature that’s too weak for us to trace. No one knows Gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that’s where I’d be.”

“So Fury isn’t after…all this?” The Hulk said, gesturing down at itself.

“Not that he’s told me.”

“And he tells you everything, does he?” Bright Eyes hissed sarcastically, anger clearly evident in its tone.

“Talk to Fury, he needs you on this,” She said to the Hulk, or Dr. Banner she supposed. She wasn’t quite sure who she was really talking to at the moment.

The Hulk’s response was immediate and laced with quiet fury, “He needs us in a cage, you mean? Or perhaps a dissection table?”

_Shitshitshit! Abort, abort, abort!_

“No one’s going to put you in a—“

“STOP LYING TO US!” Hulk yelled, smashing a fist on the ground in front of her and lunging forward to snap its jaws mere inches from her face before drawing back just as quickly. 

Natasha reflexively leapt backwards, pulling a gun automatically as she took aim at it. It drew back, posture relaxed. 

“I’m sorry. That was mean. I just wanted to see what you’d do. I don’t think I should have bothered. I already knew how you’d react. It’s always the same. Your fear has been stinking up the clearing ever since you got here. Now, why don’t we do this the easy way, where you don’t use that and Alex doesn’t make a mess?” 

Seeing as how Hulk had not murdered the shit out of her yet, Natasha lowered her weapon and slowly turned around.

Alex was there, one of its larger arms transformed into an enormous blade, taller than the average young teenager. It was inches from her body, and the creature radiated a cold, calculating fury. Natasha could practically feel its bloodlust. Its eyeless face stared at her with undeniable hunger.

She felt herself swallow involuntarily. She slowly holstered her gun and made no sudden moves as she raised a hand to her earpiece.

“Stand down. We’re good here.” 

She got no response from the backup and she tapped at her earpiece, thinking it to have malfunctioned, or perhaps she missed the activation button. The damn things were so small, it happened more often than she’d like to admit.

Alex’s arm came apart into a myriad of tiny tentacles that reformed into an inhuman, six-fingered hand, complete with hooked claws.

“Stand down, hmm? I’m afraid they won’t be able to stand _up,_ much less aim a gun,” It remarked blandly. “They haven’t even been conscious for the past several minutes. You humans like to think you’re stealthy, but you’re really, really not. I knew you were all there from the very beginning, and the only reason any of you are still breathing is because of Bruce.”

Natasha nodded stiffly, unsure of how to respond. “Will they recover?”

“Oh, sure…eventually…after plenty of therapy,” Alex said, smiling a horrible grin.

The Hulk sighed, “Well, we might as well go help. I don’t trust SHIELD to so much as screw in a lightbulb, never mind safeguard a Cosmic Fulcrum, but no way in hell am I just letting some random nutcase run around with something like that, either.”

“Glad to hear it, Doctor. Are you able to transform back, or should I arrange for alternate pickup?” Natasha asked.

“I’m only going as long as Alex can come too, and I can turn smaller and pink, if that’s what you’re asking. Still gonna look like a freak though. Is any of that gonna cause problems?” 

“Not in the least. As long as you can help find the cube, I don’t care who you bring or if you decide to walk around naked. Other people might stare though. There’s nothing I can do about that, unfortunately,” She said, trying to lighten the mood with a little humor.

Dr. Banner smiled with a mouthful of shark teeth. “Perfect. I hate pants. People are gonna stare no matter what, so I may as well be comfortable.”

Natasha had no response to that, either.

He grunted and began shrinking down in a transition that was incredibly smooth, if somewhat disgusting to listen to. True to his word, the Doctor was smaller and pinker, but that was basically the only change. He still had scales and fins and his legs looked like they belonged on a dinosaur. He was also still naked, but not indecent. Just like his greener self, there was nothing, er, _showing,_ so to speak. She absolutely did not stare, nope.

At his side, Alex dissolved into a writhing ball of tentacles before resuming the same bird-shape it had been in before. It appeared to be an odd sort of owl. Completely black, but with a white facial disk. Its wings seemed almost slightly too long, with the feathers seeming to drag on the ground slightly. Dr. Banner bent down and scooped the creature up before placing it on his shoulder.

He then sighed again and gave her an unimpressed look. “Well, I suppose I should wear _something_ if I don’t want people staring at my crotch the entire time. It’s all still there, in case you were wondering,” Dr. Banner deadpanned, and Natasha fought off a blush at being caught staring, despite doing her best not to. It was just fucking weird, okay? Like a train wreck in progress, you couldn’t _not_ look.

Alex chuckled and the bird’s chest cavity peeled back to reveal a large mouth stretching down it. The mouth spat out a small bundle of something, and she realized it was a strange sort of kilt that Dr. Banner quickly donned, his tail fitting through a custom-made slot in the back. 

Alex’s chest writhed again before reforming back into what it was before, not a feather out of place. 

Dr. Banner reached up and scratched the creature underneath its beak in an undeniable gesture of affection. The thing closed its eyes and cooed, shuffling up to sit pressed up against the side of Banner’s head.

Despite everything, Natasha found the sight to be rather adorable. The moment was broken when it opened its eyes and said, “Now, your task force should be waking up any minute, so why don’t you collect the poor things and show us to the Quinjet? We have a Cosmic Fulcrum to find. Last thing we need is some ignorant idiot using it to tear apart space-time. Not all things that dwell in the darkness beyond the Veil are as…restrained as myself.”

Natasha had about a million questions, but she kept them to herself for now, though she catalogued everything the creature said.

* * *

The ride back to the Helicarrier was intensely awkward. The task force agents sat stiff as boards on one side of the plane, squished in next to each other on the benches in order to be as far away from their former targets as possible. Natasha wished she had the same luxury. Bright Eyes, or Alex, she supposed, sat on Dr. Banner’s knee while the man’s other leg bounced in nervousness. His large hind claws clicked against the metal floor of the Quinjet, only adding to the tense atmosphere. Finally, the man spoke up.

“The silence is killing me. Alex, do you think you could…?” 

“Oh thank **Soth** _(Void),_ I thought you’d never ask. What are you in the mood for, **Ya Gokar'luh** _(My Treasure)?”_

Natasha and just about everyone else on the plane jerked at the sound of the unknown language that they could somehow understand. Dr. Banner seemed to duck his head in embarrassment at the pet name, the large frill-like fins that seemed to serve as his ears twitching slightly.

“Something…light. Happy,” The man replied. Just as Natasha was about to ask what they were talking about, Alex opened his beak and began to sing, complete with musical accompaniment, though no one could tell where the instrumentals were coming from, just like it had been in the jungle. Natasha wondered what kinds of abilities Alex had access to. The instrumentals and song were as Dr. Banner requested; light and happy. [A happily strumming acoustic guitar sounded from somewhere, accompanied by clapping.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9TLoKmvqmU)

Even Alex’s lower voice seemed lighter as he sang, and Natasha could not deny that it was very beautiful, even if the lyrics seemed rather ominous considering the current situation.

> _“Shipwrecked in a sea of faces, there's a dreamy world up there. Dear friends in higher places, will carry you away from here._
> 
> _Travel light, let the moon eclipse you, ‘cause your flight is about to leave, and there's more to this brave adventure, than you'd ever believe!_
> 
> _Bird’s-eye view, awake the stars 'cause they're all around you! Wide eyes will always brighten with the blue. Chase your dreams, and remember me, sweet bravery, ‘cause after all, those wings will take you up so high! So bid the ocean floor goodbye as you race the wind, and take to the sky!_
> 
> _On the heels of a war of worlds, there's a stormy sky up there. You can't whisper above the thunder, but you can fly anywhere!_
> 
> _Crimson crash of golden birds, this picture tells a thousand tales, so take a breath of myth and mystery, and don't look back!_
> 
> _Bird’s-eye view, awake the stars 'cause they're all around you! Wide eyes will always brighten with the blue. Chase your dreams, and remember me, sweet bravery, ‘cause after all, those wings will take you up so high! So bid the ocean floor goodbye as you race the wind, and take to the sky!_
> 
> _There's a realm beyond the World Tree, where the lost are finally found. Touch your feathers to the breeze, and leave the ground!_
> 
> _Bird’s-eye view, awake the stars 'cause they're all around you! Wide eyes will always brighten with the blue. Chase your dreams, and remember me, sweet bravery, ‘cause after all, those wings will take you up so high! So bid the ocean floor goodbye as you race the wind, and take to the sky!”_

Even after the song was over, the tune seemed to linger in the air, and Natasha couldn’t get the words out of her head if she tried. Given that their enemy was a norse deity and Alex had included a line about the World Tree as well as blue eyes, Natasha strongly suspected that Alex knew way more about the entire situation than he was letting on. The only question was how?

Alex and Dr. Banner continued to hum different tunes throughout the rest of the flight, but no one had the guts to ask them to stop.

* * *

When the Quinjet finally landed, the task force were the first ones off that plane, practically running away. Alex chuckled darkly at the sight. They dared to aim guns at Bruce, so he gifted them all with a little nap time, complete with vivid visions about what would happen to them if they dared make such a mistake again. Bruce was making him all soft. Granting mercy to stupid assholes who threatened him. His friend was a precious cinnamon roll, too good for this horrible, fucked up world. 

Why was he trying to save it again? Oh, right. Thanos. Fuck that guy. The Earth may be a fucked-up backwater dirtball compared to some of the worlds Alex knew were out there, but it was Bruce’s home, and his too, technically, and Alex was nothing if not an overprotective dragon who hovered over his hoard.

_Yeah that’s right, you bastards. Earth is MINE, and you can all go fuck off and die._

Bruce hauled himself to his feet and started making his way off the jet and across the deck, drawing many, many curious and fearful stares. Alex glared at them all from his perch as Bruce followed behind Romanoff who met up with Coulson and the Boy Scout himself. 

Alex frowned. Well, as much as an owl could frown, at any rate. Rogers smelled funny. Almost like Bruce, but totally not at the same time. He guessed it had something to do with the Super-Soldier Serum.

Bruce smelled nice though. He had Void Energy coursing through his metaphysical veins, and everything was nicely balanced and just as it should be. Bruce smelled like home, and safety, and family.

Rogers smelled like someone had mixed up the salt and sugar measurements for a batch of cookies and come out with something that, while technically edible, would probably taste like shit.

_Looks like Super-Soldier is off the menu unless I wanna get whatever qualifies as indigestion for me these days. Pity. Well, nothing says that can’t still threaten to eat him._

Rogers openly stared at Bruce, taking in everything from his legs, to his fins, to his stripes. 

_Oh, great. He’s going to be like that, is he?_

Then Rogers finally seemed to notice Alex sitting on his shoulder. Alex’s current form was that of an owl, with a few rather major modifications. He based it off of the spirit librarian, Wan Shi Tong: He-Who-Knows-Ten-Thousand-Things, a character from one of Alex’s favorite cartoons of all time, Avatar: The Last Airbender.

Thus, Alex was rather large and very tall for what otherwise appeared to be a black barn owl with a white face, though his tail was longer and composed of feathers that were very flat and thin, seeming almost like hair, and his primary feathers were a touch too long for his body, causing them to fan out behind him when he stood and drag on the ground when he walked.

He was waiting for the first time someone really pissed him off so he could do the freaky extendable neck thing. Viper-owl indeed.

It seemed to take Rogers a long time to realize that he was, in fact, staring, and being a complete twat about it. It took Bruce adopting a very unimpressed look, complete with raising one eyebrow in condescension before Rogers seemed to get the hint.

“Doctor Banner,” Rogers greeted stiffly, holding out a hand to shake like the proper gentleman he was.

 _[Oh look, he’s all nice and proper when he’s not being a judgmental assface. How polite of him.]_ Alex mentally sneered.

 _[I know you don’t like him—I’m certainly not wowed either—but can you at least try to not cause a total scene? Please? For me?]_ Bruce practically begged.

 _[You play dirty, Bruce.]_ Alex replied. He could never say no to Bruce when he begged like that. Damn him and his softness! He needed to go kill something to offset everything. He hoped Rogers would volunteer.

_[To be fair, so do you.]_

_[Touché.]_

“Oh, yeah, hi. They told me you’d be coming,” Bruce answered distractedly, accepting the man’s large hand with his own webbed one before giving it a shake.

“Word is you can find the Cube.”

“Oh, is _that_ what they’re saying about me?” Bruce asked sardonically, keen slitted eyes roving across the deck and spotting many people whispering to each other as they rubbernecked and tried to make it look less obvious that they were staring. They all failed miserably.

 _[Anyone gives you shit about anything, you come tell me and I’ll handle it.]_ Alex said, practically demanding.

 _[If I do that, you’ll depopulate half the ship by noon.]_ Bruce deadpanned.

 _[Your point?]_ He retorted.

“Only word I care about,” Rogers said, nodding a bit.

 ** _[Fh’yek ah'legeth'drn.]_** _(Fucking liar.)_ Alex mentally spat, fuming as he glared for all he was worth at the source of his ire. Bruce ignored his mental comment.

“Must be strange for you, all of this,” Bruce said, sort of waving his hand to indicate the expansive deck of the ship. The movement caused the noonday sun to glimmer across his tiny translucent scales, and their slight iridescent sheen looked absolutely stunning in Alex’s opinion.

“Well, this is actually kind of familiar.”

“Gentlemen, you might wanna step inside in a minute. It’s gonna get a little hard to breathe,” Romanoff chimed in, looking almost smug, likely expecting them to be impressed or some shit.

“Not possible,” Bruce muttered, referring to the way his lungs were much more efficient than a normal human’s. Unless the Helicarrier suddenly decided it liked the stratosphere, Bruce would be fine, and Alex scoffed at the idea of needing to do something as plebeian as _breathe._

Natasha gave him a look, but said nothing.

“Is this a submarine?” Rogers asked incredulously.

“Really, they want _me_ in a submerged, pressurized metal container?” Bruce joked. SHIELD as a whole had no idea that Bruce ‘Hulking Out’ was no longer a concern, and they both planned to milk that for all it was worth. 

Beneath them all, propellers began to spin and the ship started to lift into the air.

“Oh no, this is _much_ worse,” Bruce said blandly, his wide, shark-toothed grin looked absolutely bestial when combined with the look in his glowing eyes.

* * *

They were all led inside shortly, and Alex rolled his eyes at Fury’s dramatics as he commanded the ship to vanish.

They both stayed back and sort of hid in the shadows, but plenty of people stared at them. Alex was well aware of how eye-catching his friend was, but still, didn’t they know that staring was rude?

Alex watched with amusement as Rogers dazedly handed Fury a ten-dollar bill, which the man promptly spirited away into his voluminous trench coat.

“Doctor, thank you for coming,” Fury said, shaking Bruce’s hand and giving him only a cursory once-over without reacting or acting like Bruce was anything but a normal person. Though Fury had no idea, he’d just scored some major points with Alex for that. 

Bruce’s grip was delicate, and he was careful to not press his fingertips too hard against Fury’s hand, watching his claws as always.

 _Oh,_ **_Ya Gokar'luh_ ** _(My Treasure), always so careful. They do not deserve you._

“Thanks for asking nicely. So, um, how long am I staying?”

“Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you’re in the wind,” The man said. Alex knew it was all merely hot air.

“You lie very easily, don’t you? You’ve had agents tailing us every time we left the water or the safety of home. Oh, they don’t get too close, but I can always tell when I’m being spied upon,” Alex remarked mildly, tilting his feathered head and allowing his nictitating membrane to slide slowly across his eyes before they retreated again.

Fury admirably didn’t startle, he just stared, much like everyone else was currently.

“Did…did that owl just talk?” Rogers asked.

Alex rotated his head around backwards to look right at Rogers, who was standing behind them. “No. You’re dreaming. You’ve been asleep for a long time. Better wake up now, before you forget how to,” Alex said with the utmost seriousness before turning back around. Alex, knowing what Rogers was about to do without even having to look, tried not to laugh. He waited a few seconds before adding, “I _cannot_ believe you just fell for that. Moron.”

He could practically feel Rogers’ glare on his back as the man rubbed his arm from where he’d just pinched it.

“Can’t even go five minutes without being a smartass, can you, Alex?” Bruce sighed.

“Not when they make it so easy,” He replied smoothly.

Bruce just sighed again and turned to Fury saying, “Well, where are you with things on the search so far?”

“We’re sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet. Cell phones, laptops—if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us,” Coulson chimed in.

“It’s still not gonna find them in time,” Romanoff muttered.

“You have to narrow your field. How many Spectrometers do you have access to?” Bruce asked, getting into what Alex liked to call the ’Science Zone’.

“How many are there?” Fury replied, a hint of smugness in his tone.

“Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the Spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for Gamma rays. I’ll rough out a tracking algorithm—basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?” Bruce asked, taking charge now that he was in his element.

“Agent Romanoff, would you show Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please?” Fury asked, nodding at her. Romanoff walked over and led them out of the bridge area.

“You’re gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys.”

“Really? Do you have a com-meter sixty-four?” Alex asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m not sure—” She began.

Bruce cut her off with a chuckle, “Oh you’re very young, aren’t you?”

* * *

Alex’s superb hearing let him detect the precise moment the jet containing Rogers left to head off towards Stuttgart, Germany. Alex half-wished he could tag along to go kick some ass, but no way in hell was he leaving Bruce to fend for himself in this pit of vipers. He stayed perched on a nearby shelf, glaring at anyone who came within ten feet of Bruce. Not that many people dared, but Alex took notes on which ones did and did not look at Bruce with greedy, fascinated eyes.

_Congratulations, idiot SHIELDRA goon #427, you’ve just made The List._

Alex’s List was getting very long indeed, but that was okay. It just meant he’d eat well.

* * *

Alex knew the exact second Loki was brought aboard the Helicarrier, because even from here, he could detect the faint traces of Void Energy the man carried on him like a persistent odor. 

With the arrival of the trickster god came the scepter, and Alex could feel the way the Mind Stone pulsed ominously against his personal energies, and he mentally snarled at it to fuck off. Surprisingly, it did.

_Huh. Didn’t think that would actually work…interesting…_

Alex wrapped his mental presence around Bruce to try and shield him from any potential harmful effects of the stupid Stone. Bruce just took it to be his usual possessive clinginess and didn’t say anything.

When Loki appeared in the hallway across from the lab surrounded by guards, Alex kept a close eye on him. When the god spotted Bruce, his eyes widened slightly before a smirk crawled its way across his face.

Alex sensed the small, discrete bolt of magic that the god flung Bruce’s way, and he bodily flung himself at the bulletproof glass separating them in a near-blind rage, scratching at it with both the talons on his feet and the hidden ones on his main wing joints, screeching threats in R’Lyehian. His claws scraped deep gashes into the reinforced glass and it made a horrendous noise, but Alex couldn’t even hear it, every other sound almost completely drowned out by the frothing chant of _howdarehehowdarehetouchwhatisMINE!_

Alex took the small, rather pathetic bit of magic in his own energy and shredded it apart like a feral dog as he spewed threats, and once he figured out what the small bolt of magic was meant to do, it incensed him so much that his form began to lose cohesion, sprouting tentacles and teeth and extra eyes that blazed a hellish red in places none of those things should be.

His energies writhed, stretching the nearby shadows as he defended his friend.

 **“Ymg' ahog’mghri Gokar'luh’ehye ah'bthnk lloig?! Y' ymg' ephaiuaaah'li yaor bthnkor ephaii'mglagln ymg' Iiahe Y' lllln'gha ymg' hup ph'nglui yog, ymg' mg’vulgtlagln n'ghangluiuh'enyth! Ymg' ahor llll stell'bsna nilgh'rinahnah Iiahe hf’gahn Iiahe li ahhai Y' ah ehye’t llll ymg', ymg' naflahlloig mgvulgt’shug!”** _(You dare touch Bruce’s mind?! I will twist your own flesh against you as I devour you from the inside out, you insolent cur! You shall beg for something as sweet as pain when I am done with you, you presumptuous wretch!)_

He was expecting Loki to be scared, to flinch back, or even to just laugh and shrug it off. He was not expecting for Loki’s eyes to go big as saucers and for the previously cool and suave man to fling himself backwards, shrieking in terror as he pointed at Alex’s seething form and babbled something in what Alex assumed was Æsir.

A dark part of Alex was soothed at the sight of the Jötunn’s obvious terror. He hissed out an additional warning.

 **“Vulgtmnah, ymg' ahnythor ah mgvulgt. Mga'ehe ymg' mgvulgt’shug lloig r'luh mglagln hup Gokar'luh’ehye ngnah Y' ahor mggok’lat h' hup ymg' orr’e!”** _(Good, you should be scared. Get your filthy mind magic away from Bruce or I shall rip it from your soul!)_

Bruce came up from behind him and fearlessly scooped his writhing, angry form into his arms, sending him calming thoughts and gently rocking him. No fair. Alex was a sucker for being cradled like that, and Bruce knew it, the **bosh’tet.**

His ire was soothed by the cuddling and he wrestled his form back under control. Tendrils stopped lashing and curling around everything they could reach, which was mainly Bruce’s arms and hands. His form settled back down into its viper-owl shape, and the shadows went back to normal, the heavy, oppressive weight of his anger mostly dissipating.

He turned baleful eyes back onto Loki, who was being roughly hauled to his feet. He was shaking slightly, and his eyes were still enormous with terror. Alex hissed viciously at him and flashed his eyes red, and was gratified by the way the god flinched back violently as the guards escorting him basically dragged him to the cell, the god’s legs stiff with fear.

Bruce’s clawed, webbed hands came up to stroke gently at his feathers and that one spot under his beak that he could never seem to reach properly by himself, and Alex practically melted into a happy puddle of eldritch goo. Not literally, of course, but the point still stood.

* * *

After calming down, Alex and Bruce headed to the bridge for a debrief. On the meeting table was a monitor showing live footage from Loki’s cell. The conversation Loki and Fury had was only partly like he remembered from the movie, but he supposed that was to be expected. He’d caused quite a few butterflies so far.

Alex was quietly furious at the sight of the supposed ‘Hulk-Proof’ cage, but he kept his anger to himself for once. The time for shredding everything and bathing in the blood of his enemies would come in time.

* * *

Fury walked in from a dark hallway from somewhere offscreen, and began his little welcoming speech. It started off the same way as Alex remembered it. 

“In case it’s unclear, you try to escape—you so much as scratch that glass—” Fury pushed a button on a nearby panel, and the floor beneath the cell dropped open like a camera shutter to reveal nothing but empty air. The wind screamed through the open hole. 

Fury continued, “—Thirty thousand feet straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?” He pushed a different button and the large aperture in the floor closed. He gestured first to Loki, and then to the big red button that would presumably drop the cell. “Ant. Boot.”

“It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me,” Loki said with a blank expression, glancing up into the camera warily.

“Built for something a lot stronger than you.” Fury retorted.

* * *

Alex snarled at the screen. “If he _dares…!”_

Bruce soothed him once more, “I know buddy. Blood and fire and death. I’m very grateful for the support, but maybe dial it back a tad so people don’t have heart attacks every time you so much as twitch? You have enough skulls in your collection already.”

“…No promises,” He grumbled, ruffling his wings. “And there’s no such thing as too many skulls. I’ll have that throne completed eventually.”

Neither of them noticed the rather concerned looks they received from those within earshot.

* * *

“Oh I’ve heard. A mindless beast—makes play he’s still a man, and his master as well. How desperate are you, that you call on such lost, volatile creatures to defend you?” Loki asked, looking genuinely curious.

“How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can’t hope to control, you talk about peace, and you kill ’cause it’s fun. You have made me _very_ desperate. You might not be glad that you did,” Fury said calmly.

“Ooh. It burns you to have come so close, to have the Tesseract, to have power—unlimited power—and for what? A warm light for all mankind to share? And then to be reminded what _real_ power is,” Loki smiled sinisterly, glancing back up into the camera again. 

“Yeah, well, let me know if ‘real power’ wants a magazine or something,” Fury shot back. He looked like he was about to turn and leave, but he was stopped by Loki beginning to giggle hysterically before he seemed to lose it and doubled over laughing. Just full-on cackling like a madman.

“Something funny?” Fury asked tightly, a scowl marring his face even more than normal.

“Oh, you thought I was talking about me! That’s hilarious! You have no clue what you’ve brought onto your ship! None at all! Oh, this is rich! I have half a mind to call off all my plans and let that—that **helvetegyte** do all the work!” Loki laughed, a manic smile on his face.

“We don’t have a clue? And you do? Mind educating us mere mortals, then? I caught your little encounter with our resident alien, mind enlightening us as to what that was all about?” Fury asked sarcastically, clearly not really expecting an answer.

Loki chuckled a bit more before replying. “If mortals are ants, and the gods the boots that squash them, then _that_ is the yawning abyss that swallows all, capable of utterly annihilating everything on this sorry realm. If it chose to give into its nature, there is no stopping it, no running from it, no hiding from it, none at all. There is only surrender, and the hope that your death will be quick and painless,” Loki said, a touch of fear in his voice. “How one of _that_ ilk found its way to this unremarkable, backwater realm, I haven’t the faintest idea. That is just your bad luck. Your very, _very_ bad luck. I’m shocked enough that this realm is still as intact as it is. You ought to thank the beast. He’s really doing you all a great service.”

“You seem pretty scared of a bird. A fucking freaky-ass bird, to be sure, but a bird all the same. What’s to stop me from bringing it down here and getting whatever it really is to interrogate you instead?” Fury asked, raising his one good eyebrow.

“Ha! Good luck getting it to cooperate. They are capricious things, and are just as likely to help you as they are to kill you out of hand for daring to even approach them without the proper sacrifices and reverence. If you could get its Chosen to ask it, you might have a chance, but I _really_ wouldn’t recommend it. To be honest, I am rather surprised I still draw breath. I threatened its Chosen, however ignorantly,” Loki gave Fury a strange look before continuing, “You are either very cunning or very foolish to consider using its Chosen in your little group. I cannot yet see which it is, but I suppose we’ll all find out together.”

“Hmm. I suppose we will. Recommended or not, I’m starting to think it may be better to just get Banner to bring his pet apocalypse-bird down here to get you to behave.” Fury quipped before departing.

* * *

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Bruce asked with amusement.

Alex growled lowly, “Only I’m allowed to do that.”

“I don’t get it, why’s Loki so scared of you?” Rogers asked. “The things he said about you being—”

“A walking global apocalypse?” Alex finished, turning to look at Rogers. He scanned his gaze over everyone present, which included Rogers, Romanoff, and Thor at the moment, with Maria Hill standing off to the side observing, but not really participating in the conversation. Alex resettled his wings and drew himself up to his full current height, which was still quite tall, especially since he was sitting on Bruce’s shoulder. “He spoke the truth,” He admitted bluntly.

Thor inhaled sharply, turning wary eyes on him. “So you _are_ Void-Born?” He asked, looking like he wanted to run for the hills. His hand was gripped tightly around Mjölnir’s strap, likely to aid making a hasty retreat.

The others all looked rather confused and wary at the god’s obvious fear.

“Yes, but no matter how badly part of me yearns to return to my birthplace, I will not, for my place is with Bruce. As long as **Ya Gokar'luh** _(My Treasure)_ calls this place home, I shall defend it to the best of my abilities. The Chitauri shall find Earth a much more difficult target than they anticipate, for though I am comparatively young, I am very, very good at killing things,” Alex said sincerely, a bloodthirst lighting his eyes from within.

Thor mulled his words over before he seemed to come to a realization, eyes widening slightly. He gave Bruce a strange look that resembled a mix of fear, awe, embarrassment, and like he thought Bruce to be batshit insane.

Thor seemed to relax after coming to whatever realization it was, nodding in Alex’s direction before turning to address Bruce directly. “You are a braver man than I. Were you Æsir, your name would be recorded in the Hall of Heroes forever, so that all might know of your sacrifice. Giving one’s self in such a manner to safeguard an entire realm is worthy of entrance into the grandest halls of Valhalla.”

Bruce and everyone else looked rather nonplussed. “Oh, um…thanks?” Bruce said awkwardly, very confused.

“The Chitauri? What are they?” Rogers asked, trying to bring the conversation back on topic.

“They’re not of Asgard nor any world known. Loki means to lead their armies against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract,” Thor said, still looking a bit uneasy. 

“An army, from outer space?” Rogers asked incredulously.

“Of all the things to get hung up on, you choose that? Surely by now you have realized that aliens exist, given that you are in a conversation with two right now, but the idea that aliens have armies too is what you’re surprised about?” Alex asked, supremely unimpressed. He mentally knocked off a few points from Rogers’ probable IQ.

“Be nice, Alex. We’re all on the same side,” Bruce said gently.

“For now,” Alex agreed, glancing at Rogers. “And while you might not know of the Chitauri, Æsir, the rest of the universe is not nearly so out of touch. They are a plague upon the cosmos, ravaging entire planets in their eternal conquest. Were they to have their way, Earth would be nothing but a smoldering crater when they got through with it. They seek destruction and revel in death. They will pour across this planet like locusts, devouring and destroying everything in their path. There is no negotiation, no peace with them. There is only war. Luckily for this planet, though I am built much the same, I am much more reasonable, and rather territorial,” Alex said ominously.

Bruce sighed and shook his head before returning to the main issue at hand. “So, Loki’s building another portal. That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.”

“Selvig?” Thor asked, looking deeply concerned.

“He’s an astrophysicist,” Bruce clarified.

“He’s a friend,” Thor corrected.

“Loki has him under some kind of spell—along with one of ours,” Romanoff added.

_Of course. Can’t forget about her boy-toy for even a minute._

“I wanna know why Loki let us take him in. He’s not leading an army from here,” Rogers said with certainty. Alex took pleasure in ripping it away from him.

“Magic is capable of many things, Captain. Long distance non-verbal communication is laughably simple in the grand scheme of things. Given Earth’s rather depressing number of mages, I highly doubt that cage is warded to block such communications, never mind other sorts of more primordial magic,” Alex declared. “Luckily for us, in his current condition, Loki isn’t likely to be using any at all if he can spare it.”

“What do you mean?” Romanoff asked.

“You all are not attuned to such things, but Loki reeks of the Void. Trips through the Veil are not pleasant or easy if you are not a native. A trip like that leaves its mark on visitors, in more ways than one. I’m frankly quite shocked that he came out of it even halfway coherent at all. Regardless of my ire with him, I am rather impressed. It takes an incredibly strong mind and will to hold onto one’s sense of self when traversing the space between spaces. Never mind that he managed to find his way back into his own reality. That alone is more than I’ve ever managed. Lucky **bosh’tet,”** Alex grumbled, reinforcing the cover story he’d come up with so long ago.

Bruce offered him consolatory skritchies and he leaned into the contact, thrumming out a throaty purr. Thor shifted uncomfortably, shooting them both a strange look. 

His face contained traces of discomfort curiously enough, but not the kind of discomfort that was born of pain, rather it was the sort that came from watching embarrassing things. Alex was intrigued. It was just a chin-scratch, what was the big deal? It wasn’t like they were doing anything illicit.

“I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats, you can smell the crazy on him,” Bruce said, trying for humor.

Thor, of course, didn’t seem to find it very funny. “Have care how you speak. Loki is beyond reason but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother.”

“He killed eighty people in two days,” Romanoff deadpanned, voice flat.

“Oh, please. Even weakened, with his capabilities, that body count is insultingly low. It’s like he’s not even trying,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “I did better than that not a week after I attained a physical form on this plane. Only difference is that my victims actually deserved it. Sick **bosh’tets** had it coming,” He hissed.

Thor gave him some side-eye, “Aye, it does seem a bit unusual for Loki to act in such a way. Though my brother relies more on magical tricks and subterfuge, he is very capable of causing immense devastation even without his magic when the mood strikes him. His behavior has been very odd. I cannot make sense of it.”

Bruce once again brought the meandering conversation back on track. “I think it’s about the mechanics. Iridium, what does he need the Iridium for?”

From around a corner, Tony Stark entered the room with Coulson, and already the man had a noticeable presence. He certainly knew how to cater to an audience, Alex thought. 

Besides just his regular charisma, Alex detected the aura the man carried around with him. Looks like the dream sessions he’d had with the man had worked. Tony looked remarkably young and healthy, just as he’d planned. The Arc Reactor was bright and it hummed with restrained power to Alex’s senses. 

Looks like the modified version of Starkanium he’d provided Tony with had been synthesized without a hitch. That was good news. He’d been slightly concerned about the finer details getting lost due to the nature of dream-sharing, but everything seemed to have worked out.

“It's a stabilizing agent,” Tony said with confidence. “Means the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD,” Tony turned to address Thor, “No hard feelings, Point Break. You've got a mean swing,” Tony turned back to the room at large and continued, “Also, it means the portal can open as wide—and stay open—as long as Loki wants.”

Tony stood in the circular command platform that pretty much functioned as the proverbial Captain’s chair of the Helicarrier.

“Uh, raise the mid-mast, ship the top sails!” Suddenly Tony pointed to a seemingly random SHIELD agent sitting behind a computer. “That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn't notice. But we did,” Tony declared, nodding a bit. He then covered his left eye and looked around at the panel of screens surrounding the podium. “How does Fury do this?”

“He turns,” Maria Hill said, faintly amused.

Alex was paying attention to how Tony moved and noticed the exact moment he placed a tiny hacking device under the railing holding the various screens up.

“Well, that sounds exhausting. The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on _pretty_ easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source. A high energy density, something to kick-start the cube.”

“When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” Hill questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Last night. The packet—Selvig's notes—the Extraction Theory papers—am I the only one who did the reading?” Tony asked, looking around the room in mock shock.

“Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Rogers asked.

“He's got to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb Barrier,” Bruce said, looking at Tony.

“Unless Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect,” Tony declared, looking at Bruce with interested eyes. His vividly golden eyes roved across Bruce’s form, something almost like recognition taking shape in them.

_Interesting. Did he make the connection between Bruce’s dream representation and his physical self? He should have some limited aura-sensing ability._

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve heavy ion fusion at any reactor on the planet,” Bruce replied, and Alex could feel his friend’s growing excitement at the conversation topic. Alex held a lot of stolen scientific knowledge, and while he was absolutely smart enough to carry on long conversations about physics and other such obscure fields of study, he didn’t much care for it. He was glad that Bruce was getting to talk about science again, though.

Tony smiled and approached Bruce, “Finally, someone who speaks English!” He declared happily.

“Is that what just happened?” Rogers asked incredulously.

Tony then seemed to stop dead upon spotting Alex and his signature eyes. He passed his gaze over Bruce again before returning his attention to Alex, a look of breathless disbelief took shape on his features. “It’s you…!” He whispered.

“Yes. Hello, **Yogfm’lahmgn'ghft** _(Starshine),_ it is wonderful to meet you in person finally. My name is **N’ghftog’mgn'ghft** _(Blacklight),_ but you may call me Alex. You have had pleasant dreams in my occasional absences, I hope?”

“The best,” Tony replied dazedly, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I’m sorry, do you two know each other?” Rogers asked, looking back and forth between them.

“Only through the warped filters of dreams shared across the endless Otherspace, and the occasional bit of aura-projection,” Alex answered, waving a wing in dismissal. “I take it you enjoyed my gift?” He asked Tony.

“So that _was_ you?” Tony exclaimed, grinning widely. 

Alex smiled and nodded. “Only in so much that I provided the knowledge. The rest was all you. My gift could have taken on the form of anything, but your aura made it your own, though I always had a hunch as to where my gift would take you. I told you that you would soar one day, and you have done all that and more. My most heartfelt congratulations, Starshine. Red and gold certainly suit you very well.” 

“Uh, thanks. One hell of a gift to suddenly spring on a guy, but considering it saved my life, I’ll let the whole thing slide. Just…ask, next time? Scared the hell out of me and JARVIS near the beginning before we figured out what in the fuck was going on, but I can’t really argue with the results,” Tony shrugged. 

Alex had to restrain from cooing. The man was adorable!

“Yeah, Alex and I already had a talk about that, he uh, he won’t do that again,” Bruce added.

“And you! Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you! Please, introduce yourself. Anyone with a brain that sexy deserves to have their genius _fully appreciated,”_ Tony said, sending a flirtatious wink Bruce’s way.

“Oh, ah, thank you?” Bruce stuttered, flustered at the unexpected compliment and flirting. His paddle-like tail curled upwards a bit due to nerves. “Oh, um, my name is Bruce Banner. It’s nice to meet you in person as well,” Bruce said, holding out a webbed hand cautiously for a shake.

Tony’s eyes widened before he broke out into a brilliant smile. “No shit? Well, I’ve gotta say Doc, it’s truly an honor! Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster,” Tony said as he enthusiastically shook Bruce’s offered hand without the faintest trace of hesitation.

* * *

“Oh, um, thanks,” Bruce said awkwardly. He didn’t lose control anymore, hadn’t even been a concern for him for years, but it wasn’t like Tony knew that. Bruce took a subtle sniff of the air and couldn’t detect even the slightest hint of fear from the man. 

Bruce liked him instantly. That kind of easy acceptance was something he didn’t think he’d ever get from someone other than Alex. Time would tell if the man’s feelings would last, but Bruce would treasure this moment regardless.

Tony looked at him as a scientist first, and monster second. It was a novel feeling, one that he found he rather liked.

“I have a pretty good lid on it these days, so there’s a lot less raging than you’re probably imagining,” Bruce added.

Tony whistled, impressed. “Is that so? Would asking for a demonstration be too forward at this stage in our relationship?” Tony asked teasingly.

Bruce wanted to bask in the easy conversation and teasing and banter, but alas, the mood was ruined when Fury walked into the room from a hallway announcing, “Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube. I was hoping you might join him.”

“Let's start with that stick of his. It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon,” Rogers declared.

“I don't know about that, but it _is_ powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys,” Fury stated.

“Monkeys? I do not understand,” Thor said, confused.

“I do! I understood that reference,” Rogers said, like it was some kind of grand accomplishment. Bruce winced internally and wondered how long the Captain had been awake. He seemed painfully out of touch with everything going on around him.

“Shall we play, Doctor?” Tony asked him, extending one arm towards the hallway in invitation.

“Let's play some,” Bruce smiled. Alex purred contentedly from his shoulder, and Bruce wondered over the fact that he’d taken such an immediate liking to Tony when he either didn’t care about or hated practically everyone else.

Perhaps Alex’s type was just ‘Snarky Super-Genius’? 

* * *

Alex stared at the scepter Bruce was scanning from atop his perch on a nearby table. He knew it contained the Mind Stone, but aside from some indistinct whisperings and the occasional cautious tendril of energy that he easily rebuffed, the Infinity Stone seemed mostly content to just sit and do a whole lot of nothing.

Tony and Bruce seemed to be having the time of their lives, trading technobabble back and forth as they conversed easily. Alex was glad that Bruce was having fun and getting to truly connect with people again.

As much as Alex loved hogging all of Bruce’s time and attention, he had been a bit worried about isolating the man _too_ much from the rest of humanity.

The two had been at it for hours already, and Alex was beginning to get a bit peckish. There were no fish to hunt or massive amounts of radiation to absorb, so if he wanted to satisfy his hunger and not get launched off the Helicarrier, he’d have to figure something out. 

He was sure Bruce was getting hungry as well, but his preferred food and physical appearance would likely just freak everyone in the mess hall out, so he wasn’t sure it was worth making the attempt.

Alex eyed Tony and the reactor that he’d partially helped come into existence. He’d long since figured out the structure of Starkanium as it had appeared in the movies, and had sent Tony the knowledge in the shared dream-space, albeit with a few improvements, many months ago.

It was now even more powerful than before, and the energy it produced more closely resembled the special signature given off by the Infinity Stones, so it was much more flexible and mutable than the original version. It circulated through the man’s body, absorbed and distributed through all his cells. 

Watching the energy just made him more hungry, but he didn’t want to interrupt the good time Bruce and Tony were having. He sighed and looked longingly at the reactor. Unfortunately, Tony noticed his staring and tore himself away from the conversation he was having with Bruce.

“My eyes are up here, Toucan Sam,” Tony said good naturedly, “Though I get why you’re staring. It’s the sexiest piece of science around for miles, I assure you.”

“Oh, I know, and my apologies for staring. It just smells so good…” Alex huffed, ruffling and re-adjusting his mantle feathers.

“Um…what? I mean, yeah I guess it does kinda smell like coconuts?” Tony said, confused. “What do you even eat, anyway? You look a lot different from my dreams.”

“Alex, why didn’t you say you were hungry? You know I don’t mind sharing, especially when I’m like this,” Bruce said.

“But there’s people around...they’d stare,” Alex pointed out. “And it wouldn’t be fair to you. I’m sure you’re hungry too, but…”

“…Yeah. I’d rather not be shot at, nor do I want to deal with the aftermath of that particular series of events. Blood is so hard to get out of spider silk. I can wait until we find a dark corner or something,” Bruce sighed. His stomach chose an excellent time to rumble, and Alex scowled at him.

“No, you know what? If they try to kick us off because they’re bigoted, judgmental asshats, then I will give them a _real_ reason to want us gone,” He declared firmly.

“Alex, no! You can’t just eat everyone who looks at me funny! I’m very aware of my appearance, people are going to stare no matter what,” He sighed again. 

“Ummm, as the outsider who has no idea what the fuck you two are on about, could I get a translation, please?” Tony asked, looking very concerned, likely at the mention of him eating people. 

“It is our diets. Most people would find it vastly unsettling to watch us eat. Both me and Bruce require large portions of meat in our diets. While I can subsist on alternative energy sources like electricity and radiation, I need physical matter in order to be truly satisfied. Meat _needs_ to either be alive or very recently dead in order for me to get much out of it, and Bruce just prefers his raw and doesn’t much care if it is still struggling.”

“Oh. Why do you need live prey?” Tony asked curiously. “FYI, I’m cool with you guys eating whatever, so long as it isn’t me, though I doubt I’d be very appetizing. It’d be like chewing tinfoil,” He joked. “Be pretty hypocritical of me to judge your guy’s eating habits when mine are all fucked up, too.”

“I need live prey because the cells must still be mostly alive and functional for me to infect them. In my basest form, I am essentially a sapient disease. While I can make new cells on my own, it is an arduous and energy-intensive process. Assimilating other living cells is much, much simpler,” Alex answered.

“What do you mean your eating habits are fucked up?” Bruce questioned.

“Well, uh, once I installed the new reactor to prevent myself from buying the farm due to palladium poisoning, I started going through some, uh, pretty significant physiological changes,” Tony started.

“Wait, you went through monster puberty too? But you look so normal!” Bruce half-whined.

Tony barked a laugh, “‘Monster puberty’? Pfft, that’s one way to describe it! And, yeah, while my outsides look pretty normal, it’s my insides that went all…monster-y. Have you ever seen that old animated movie _The_ _Iron Giant?”_

“Yeah? You shoot laser beams or something?” Bruce asked.

“Only in the suit, but what I was referring to was the way the giant eats metal. I can still eat normal food, but it’s not very satisfying. I’m part battery-powered now, basically. I eat electricity and metal now, but I also draw power from the Arc Reactor,” Tony explained.

Bruce’s eyes lit up, literally, in interest. “Really? That’s incredible! Do you know what caused the changes? How do your digestive processes function? What about your teeth? Do you have to swallow it whole? ”

“Aside from the reactor being lodged in my chest, I have no clue why I started changing. All my tissues are partially composed of or fused with metals and other elements now—teeth included—which makes all of my shit super strong and durable. Metal shards don’t cut my skin and my jaw strength is fucking wild. You can only really see it when the light hits them just right, but my teeth literally sparkle ‘cause of the tiny diamond particles in them. My body’s more like a living machine now than anything else. Made the mistake of drinking a smoothie one of my helper bots made for me and it had motor oil in it ‘cause they mix up what things humans can safely consume pretty often and I forgot to check first. Tasted fucking amazing and I was totally fine,” Tony shrugged.

“That is fascinating and I have so many questions,” Bruce said, ear-fins perked in interest and eyes dilated like a cat’s.

“Sweet, we can swap weird body facts over lunch. I can black out the lab windows and go down to the kitchens to yoink some meat. I’m sure they have something palatable for you, but unfortunately I don’t think they keep livestock on this flying barge,” Tony frowned. 

“That’s alright, Starshine, Bruce already offered to share his radiation with me, so I’ll live,” Alex said.

“Alright, if you’re sure. I brought my own bag of snacks, but it’s back with my suit, so I’ll have to go grab that real quick and then we can talk shop, as it were,” Tony said, walking over and hitting a button near the door that caused the windows to turn dark and opaque.

“Sounds like a date,” Bruce remarked.

“Only if you want it to be, sweetcheeks,” Tony flirted back immediately, an over-the-top salacious grin on his face.

* * *

Bruce felt his cheeks warm in embarrassment and his markings flared in response to his whirling emotions, as well as his personal energies.

He wrestled them back under control and they dimmed back into darkness.

“Wow. That is…I don’t have words. You sir, have left me speechless. You should feel honored, it’s not often that I meet someone pretty enough to leave me at a loss for words.”

Tony’s smile was sincere, and Bruce stuttered out some kind of response, but he wasn’t sure quite what he said. His cheeks felt like they were on fire, and his stupid stripes had started glowing again.

Tony grinned in delight. “Oh, you are precious!” He crowed, laughing good-naturedly.

Bruce looked away and spotted Alex off to the side, in his favorite human form, lounging back against a table. He had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, holding a camera that he must have pulled from his pocket-space.

“Alex, I swear to god…!”

“Too late!” He cackled. Tony started hard and turned to see Alex standing there, grinning like a loon, his fangs also on full display. 

Bruce lunged for the camera, but Alex was faster and shoved the device into his chest in a whirl of tendrils to store it safely away in his personal pocket dimension, where Bruce couldn’t get to it and delete the incriminating evidence.

The two engaged in a bit of a playful scuffle—a glorified kindergarten slap-fight, really—ending when Alex chose to lose cohesion and plastered himself to Bruce’s back and slightly wrapping himself around his sides and front in that way he did when he was siphoning off Bruce’s radiation. Multiple blue eyes and fang-filled maws formed across the expanse, each and every one of them silently laughing at him.

Alex, the jerk, was purring up a storm with a self-satisfied smug look in his eyes. Bruce huffed in fondness and grumbled, “You win this round, you bastard, but don’t think I won’t get you back somehow!”

 **“Y' mgr'luh bugahagl l' ah'gotha!”** _(I look forward to the attempt!)_ Alex said in response, still smug as could be.

“Asshole,” Bruce muttered fondly.

“Uhhhh…what the fuck am I looking at?” Tony piped up. “I mean, I already guessed that you were some kind of shapeshifter, but seriously, _what the fuck?”_

Both he and Alex burst out laughing at the semi-horrified yet intrigued look on Tony’s face.

“We’ll tell you everything over lunch. It’s a long and pretty gruesome story, so you’d best eat first before you lose your appetite,” Bruce advised.

Tony nodded stiffly, eyes still wide and fascinated. “Kay, I’ll see what I can scrounge up. Be back in a mo,” He said as departed.

* * *

Bruce and Tony were watching each other eat with polite curiosity. From Tony’s side of the table came absurdly loud crunching sounds, which made sense considering the bowl of metal scraps and broken electronics he was eating out of.

Bruce had some wax-lined parchment paper spread out on his side of the table as he tucked into his lunch of raw chunks of meat likely intended for a stew of some kind that Tony had found in one of the kitchen’s large refrigerators.

The parchment paper was meant to prevent the blood from getting everywhere. Forks were a pain in the ass when your teeth were shaped like Bruce’s were, and with his insane jaw strength, more likely to get bitten through than not, and unlike Tony, Bruce couldn’t digest metal.

So, Bruce ate with his bare hands most of the time, thoroughly washing them before and after eating. 

Alex contented himself with Bruce’s gamma radiation, eyes half lidded as he dozed and let his mind wander in relaxation. It was not true sleep, more like a lazy sort of meditation.

Lunch soon drew to a close for the two scientists, and the long explanation of Alex’s existence began.

* * *

Alex looked to Tony and began the long story. “I suppose I owe you an explanation. You have been very kind to Bruce, as well as patient, and I thank you for that. Yes, I am a shapeshifter, and this formless mass is probably the closest thing I have to a face of my own. Though I am an alien, I hail from a place much more exotic than even Asgard. The Void is best described as the space between spaces, a dimension so removed from conventional reality that it intersects only rarely, and never for more than a few seconds at a time. 

I fell into a sort of hibernation there, but when I awoke, I was somewhere completely different. I can only describe it as my personal hell. I was experimented on for I’m not even sure how long, only that it eventually led to me becoming self-aware and fully sapient, though I could not see or hear or smell or move. Near-total sensory deprivation. For a creature that had spent their entire life surrounded by the Songs of their brethren, experiencing constant Sound and Color, the Silence very nearly drove me mad.

I was in a laboratory, an entire dimension away from all that I had known. To make matters worse, my captors had no idea of my newfound intelligence, and what they did to me I can only describe as mutilation. My kind are perhaps best described as a symbiotic organism, more akin to a living disease than a true creature.

Those **bosh’tets** in the lab ripped me apart and put me back together in horrific ways. Every time, they made me more deadly than before. They turned me into a bioweapon of mass destruction, but one that could think for itself and who hated them with every fiber of its being, not that they were aware of the last bit. 

Their experimentations caused me to adapt in new ways, and I developed abilities previously unknown to my kind. Powerful, unnatural abilities. My innate connection to the Void was twisted into something new, something active that I could draw on, and _oh,_ did I draw on it.

There is that human saying about turnabout being fair play, yes? Well, once the opportunity for escape arose, I turned the tables on those unsuspecting morons. It was nothing less than they deserved, and I turned their entire organization into a twitching mass of fear and paranoia that destroyed itself in the end.

I escaped the planet altogether after spending many of your months hunting them down and killing them to nearly the last man using the abilities they so _generously_ gifted me. I burned the organization that created me to the ground, and I cursed the ashes just for good measure. No one wrongs me and gets away with it unscathed unless I allow it.

Even before the lab, I was a dangerous creature in my own right, capable of immense destruction should I so choose, though it was against my original purpose—my true nature to bond and provide strength to a host in exchange for a safe home and nutrients. After the experimentation? Were I of the inclination, I could Consume entire worlds in mere weeks and still hunger for more. I could glut myself on the very stars themselves and never be satisfied. 

Those scientists catapulted me to the very top of the food chain with their tortures thinly disguised as tests. I destroyed them all in retribution. I took their bodies and minds into myself and used their own knowledge, skills, and faces against their dearest friends, and no one ever even knew it was me who slid the blade between their ribs. Me, the creature they stole, tortured, stuck in that damnable test tube, and twisted into the deadliest thing to roam this plane of existence. 

They wanted a weapon. _They got one._ They created a weapon to end all other weapons. The DX-1118 C Virus, otherwise known as Blacklight, the Prototype. My name is the only true gift they bestowed upon me.

I do believe the appropriate saying is ‘karma’s a bitch.’

Thor is frightened and wary because the Void is known to the Æsir, and much of what dwells within is exceedingly dangerous and hostile to non-Void life. Those that can be persuaded into working with other life do not do it out of the goodness of their hearts and what they tend to be used for is usually abhorrent. There are very few exceptions to that rule, but luckily for this planet, I happen to be one of them. I do not think Thor is entirely aware of this, since he seems to be under the impression that my love for Bruce is the only thing keeping me from devouring this planet.

I do not think Loki is aware of this fact either, and that is why he fears me. He fell through the Void, and has seen all its wonders, all its horrors. He feels my energies, and knows what I was and what I have been twisted into, built to kill and Consume endlessly and eternally, spreading myself across the stars as the greatest plague this universe has ever known, and so he fears.”

Tony was silent at Alex’s dramatic retelling of his history, clearly trying to figure out how to react.

 _[So I’ve been meaning to ask, what’s with all the dramatic formal-speak? I thought you were over that?]_ Bruce asked over the mental bond he shared with his closest friend.

 _[Being around all these people is difficult. It is full of Sound but it is discordant and the air smells like their sweat and fear. It sets me and my instincts on edge. I am nervous, so I suppose it is habit. And with the Æsir speaking like Shakespeare, I figured it would lend more weight to my words. People tend to be taken more seriously if they speak more formally.]_ Alex replied, squeezing him just the smallest bit tighter.

_[Don’t worry buddy, I get it. Just take as much radiation as you need alright?]_

_[Thank you, friend. You are too good for this world. Perhaps I will steal you away with me if I ever find a way back to mine.]_

Bruce just smiled and idly wound his fingers through Alex’s mass. It came apart like yarn beneath his touch, curling and coiling around his digits.

“Well. There’s a metric fuck-ton of shit to unpack there, but I’m going to spare my sanity and just assume that since you haven’t already killed us all and eaten both our faces and our planet, you aren’t going to,” Tony said mildly, eyeing them both. There was still no fear in his gaze, and Bruce marveled at the fact.

“No. This planet is Bruce’s home, and yours as well. I love Bruce and find myself increasingly fond of you as well. It would make Bruce upset if I ate the planet, and I find it rather beautiful besides. I am nothing if not protective over what is mine, so no, I will not be eating Earth, and I only eat those who deserve it, besides.”

“Just out of curiosity, what constitutes ‘deserving it’?” Tony asked, looking intrigued.

“People who harm me or mine, or those I find hurting others for personal gain. In the kinds of places Bruce and I tend to frequent, there seems to be no shortage of either.”

Tony just nodded at that explanation. “Good to know. Now, who wants a blueberry?”

* * *

Tony was a delight, and aside from some general questions and some innocent, curious staring, he didn’t make a huge deal over Bruce’s appearance. Both of them were grateful for that, albeit for vastly different reasons. Bruce was just happy to not be seen as a monster for once, and Alex was happy that Bruce was happy and that Tony was every bit as delightful in person as he was in the dream-plane.

* * *

Bruce idly gnawed on a length of antler that Alex had retrieved from his pocket-space, absently petting the strange fleshy mass that clung to him like a living blanket. Alex was currently dozing it looked like, eyes half lidded and tendrils lazily adjusting themselves. He didn’t ever sleep, but he occasionally fell into a sort of torpor or halfway-meditative state where his mind sort of drifted.

Bruce had always found his friend’s hypnophobia to be an odd quirk, though it was an understandable one. Alex didn’t really know much about how his own powers worked, so who’s to say that the fear of sleepwalking into new planes of existence was unjustified or not?

“So what’s he doing? I assume there’s some kind of point to him doing that? Or is he just clingy?”

“Little of column A, little of column B. He’s currently feeding off of the gamma radiation I produce. Don’t worry, it’s got an incredibly short half-life, which is why he’s all over me. He needs to be as close as possible in order to metabolize it quickly enough. You’d have to be doing what he’s doing for hours in order to come anywhere close to the danger zone for a human.”

“He’s a radiotroph? Isn’t that usually limited to single-celled organisms and fungi due to its relative inefficiency? If you were outputting enough to feed a creature his size, we’d all be dead, short half-life or no,” Tony said, looking fascinated. 

“Alex is a chimeric lifeform, he’s got traits from every major evolutionary branch and is constantly adapting and evolving. It’s half the reason he’s so dangerous. Any countermeasures anyone came up with, he’d evolve a resistance to too quick for anyone to do much of anything. He’s basically evolution personified. He took radiotrophy to a new level of efficiency, same with photosynthesis, actually.”

“Huh…” Tony said, looking contemplative.

* * *

Bruce adjusted the antler so it was more at the corner of his mouth as he typed on the keyboard. There were deep furrows carved into the bone now, and small splinters of it were missing from the sides.

“That’s incredible, what’s your jaw strength, do you know? Do your teeth replace themselves like a shark’s?” Came Tony’s curious voice, asking questions for the millionth time. 

Bruce was surprised by how little all Tony’s questions about his altered biology bothered him. Perhaps it was his attitude and willingness to humor Bruce’s questions about Tony’s own strange physiology. The man was just innocently curious, and acted like each new thing he learned about Bruce was something to be celebrated, instead of reviled or thought of as freakish.

Bruce looked up from the calculations he was running, and then realized why he was being asked such questions in the first place. Pulling the end of the battered antler from his mouth, he replied, “Well, I’ve never had it officially tested, mind you, but based on the things I’ve bitten through, either on accident or on purpose, it’s around 4,500 PSI when I’m like this, but _way_ higher than that when I’m big and green, although I don’t know by how much exactly. A couple have fallen out here and there, but they always grow back in quickly, so while I don’t have multiple rows, they do get replaced like a shark’s. I don’t actually think they’re made of enamel though, at least not completely. I’ve bitten through solid titanium sheets and been totally fine.”

Tony’s eyes were wide, “4,500? That’s stronger than some crocodile species! The highest bite force for me that JARVIS and I were able to measure was around 8,500 PSI, but the sensor broke before I was really, really exerting myself. You said it was ‘way higher’ when you were green—how much is that, just as a ballpark guess? You’re telling me that some percentage of Hulk’s strength carries over? What’s the big guy like, anyway? Is he less smashy when people aren’t shooting at him?”

Bruce was confused by the rapid-fire questions for a second before he realized, “Oh, right, you don’t know. There is no Hulk, not really. It’s just me in a different shape. It took me a long time to accept that it was really just me and get full control, but I haven’t been in danger of losing it for years.”

“Really? What was the secret? Mellow jazz, bongo drums, or a huge bag of weed? My money’s on the weed,” Tony joked.

“Would have been better off betting on the mellow jazz,” Bruce replied easily. “Alex and his people communicate primarily by using metaphysical sound waves transmitted using this specific type of energy that they all have. We’ve just been calling it Void-Energy for simplicity’s sake, though they also make noise in the conventional sense, it’s usually in frequencies much too low, and more rarely, much too high for most terrestrial animals to detect. I can detect it though, and after my accident, I somehow acquired Void-Energies of my own, and learned to control them after a while. Human languages don’t have the proper words to describe what they feel or sound like, but it’s profoundly beautiful.”

Tony’s eyebrows were raised and he looked contemplative. “Huh, so that’s what that constant humming and singing in my dreams is. So music really does soothe the savage beast, then?”

Bruce smiled. “You could say that.”

“Mrf. Someone say music?” Came Alex’s sluggish response.

“Oh, nice to see you back with us, Alex. You good?” Bruce asked.

“Yes, I am sated for the moment, but you said something about music? It’s depressingly quiet in here, do you want me to sing?”

Bruce glanced over at Tony, “You don’t mind, do you? I tend to work better with music playing or when I’m singing.”

“Really? Me too! Though I’ve gotta ask: are sudden urges to burst out into song just a Void thing? ‘Cause before the whole dream-sharing thing happened, I had about as much musical talent as a metal barrel full of wet, angry cats. Now I find myself living in some kind of Highschool Musical ripoff where I’m liable to just start belting one out whenever I’m in a really good mood, and I sound like a goddamn professional.”

“Yes,” Alex answered bluntly, “Being touched by the Void as you both are, you are attuned to the harmony of the Everything, just the slightest bit. You have probably found yourself becoming much better at audible pattern recognition and your sense of timing and rhythm have increased by an order of magnitude. I imagine your music tastes have shifted slightly?”

“Uh, yeah, actually they have. Never used to really care for electronic music, but now I’m super into anything with a shit-ton of bass.”

“Yes, it feels good to have the vibrations rattle through you, doesn’t it? Like a nice massage,” Alex added.

“Yeah, that’s…exactly what it feels like…huh, imagine that…” Tony said, looking thoughtful.

“Anyway, back to before. Is anyone in the mood for anything in particular?” Alex asked. He dropped down from his perch on Bruce’s body and resumed the strange owl shape he’d seemed to prefer recently. He hopped up onto a nearby table and settled in.

“I’m good with whatever,” Bruce agreed. He turned to Tony, “You got a preference?”

“Not really, I’m just curious to hear Tweety Bird sing us a tune. There’s some odd quality to your voice, besides the weird demon-echo you’ve got going on, I mean. There’s just something…more to it, compared to everyone else. Bruce has a teeny bit of it too, but yours is stronger.”

“You’ve got a touch of it too, you know. It’s barely there, but you’ve still got it,” Bruce informed him.

“Really? Huh…well, anyway, let’s hear something interesting!” Tony said excitedly.

Alex nodded, “In that case, I’ve got something in mind.” He then used his powers to make instrumentals sound from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was one of the few uses of his powers that he had complete control over.

[The tune started up, and it was a slow sort of haunting melody, with what sounded like an organ or something in the background.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHjgS8wb8M0)

> _“You'll be seeing me in your dreams, I'll be there when your reality drowns._
> 
> _There's a bright side, to every wrong thing, if you're looking at me through the right eyes. Darkness in my name, don't you wanna come and play on the cool side? Don't be so shy!_
> 
> _There's a pleasure in hiding from the sun, no, I was never one for pretty weather. I'd rather be a creep, baby follow me into the water, I'll take you to the darker._
> 
> _This could be perfection, or venom dripping from your mouth._ _Singing like a siren, chase me when the sun goes down. You've been seeing me in your dreams, but I'll be there when your reality drowns._
> 
> _You can pretend, that when you hear my voice, darling, it's a choice not to fall in, but it's all an act, cause I know exactly what you wanting…You know it's what I'm wanting. Oh, I know what you desire, oh, you're such a bad, bad liar!_
> 
> _This could be perfection, or venom dripping from your mouth._ _Singing like a siren, chase me when the sun goes down. You've been seeing me in your dreams, but I'll be there when your reality drowns. I'll be there when your reality drowns._
> 
> _Oh, I know what you desire, oh, you're such a bad, bad liar! I want you and I just can't take it, so listen to me when I say it…_
> 
> _This could be perfection, or venom dripping from your mouth. Singing like a siren, chase me when the sun goes down. You've been seeing me in your dreams, but I'll be there when your reality drowns. I'll be there when your reality drowns.”_

The song had barely come to an end when Rogers came striding into the lab without knocking. Like an asshole.

“You two are supposed to be finding the cube, not having a sing-along!” Rogers scolded like he was talking to misbehaving teens and not grown-ass men. “You all need to be focusing on the problem, not goofing off!” He continued.

Alex scowled fiercely. He hated people telling him what to do. Rogers had no authority over them, yet here he was, demanding that everyone fall in line and do exactly as he said. Alex thought that the man had let his own legend go to his head. And Rogers got on Tony for his ego. Hypocrite.

Rogers acted like this and still insisted that he was just ‘a little guy from Brooklyn’? Alex could hardly wait to not only pull him off his high horse, but kill and eat that horse too. It was probably just as full of itself as Rogers seemed to be. 

“What, did people not sing in the 40’s? We are focusing on the problem. The tracking algorithm is already written and searching for the cube as we speak. That part was done hours ago. It wasn’t hard to write, so what I wanna know is why we’re even here,” Tony said, frowning at Rogers. “Why now, and why not earlier? Why not have one of his people do this? What is Fury not telling us? I can’t solve the equation if I don’t have all the variables.”

“You think Fury’s hiding something?” Rogers asked frowning.

“Are you really _that_ naïve? I know you have been frozen until fairly recently, but surely things like _agendas_ existed back in your era,” Alex said. He looked Rogers up and down, taking in the man’s eyesore of a uniform and sneered as well as his current viper-owl form would allow. “Or were you just too busy being paraded around like a prized pig at a county fair to notice any of it?”

Tony smirked and added, “He's a spy. Captain, he's _the_ spy. His secrets have secrets,” Tony pointed to Bruce and Alex, “It's bugging you guys too, isn't it?”

“Uh...I just wanna finish my work here and...well, I mean…” Bruce looked a bit cagey.

“Doctor?” Rogers coaxed.

“'A warm light for all mankind’—Loki's jab at Fury about the cube…” Bruce began. He nodded at Tony, “Well, I think that was meant for you. Even if Barton didn’t blab about it to Loki, it was posted all over the news. Your tower, I mean.”

“Stark Tower? That big ugly building in New York?” Rogers questioned.

Alex glared. “Just because something is new and different does not mean it is ugly. Honestly, I find it much more pleasing to look at than you. That uniform is garish and impractical, and you carry around a shield the size of a dinner plate with a literal target painted on it. Fix your own aesthetics before you run your mouth judging others,” Alex sniped.

Tony laughed and Bruce tried to steer the conversation back on track before Alex and Rogers could start going at each other again.

“Your tower, it's powered by an Arc Reactor, which is a self-sustaining energy source, right? That building will run itself for what, a year?” Bruce questioned.

“Five years, but that's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now.”

Alex twitched involuntarily at the word ‘prototype’. Bruce sent him a concerned look but said nothing about it.

“So, why didn't SHIELD bring you in on the Tesseract project? I mean, what are they doing in the energy business in the first place?” Bruce asked with suspicion.

“I should probably look into that once my decryption programmer finishes breaking into all of SHIELD's secure files,” Tony said a bit smugly.

Rogers looked shocked by the admission, “I'm sorry, did you say...?”

“JARVIS has been running it since I hit the bridge. In a few hours we'll know every dirty secret SHIELD has ever tried to hide,” Tony said, ripping open another packet of blueberries and holding the bag out to Bruce, “Blueberry?”

Bruce took one and popped it into his mouth. Despite his mostly meat-based diet, he still enjoyed the occasional bit of fruit and veg. Tony didn’t get much nourishment out of regular food anymore, but he could still taste everything just fine and occasionally consumed normal food, though it usually just consisted of snacks.

Rogers frowned, “Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around?”

“What you should concern yourself with is how apparently easy it is for someone to hack their databases. If it’s been done once, it can be done again, and by parties much less scrupulous than Tony,” Alex pointed out.

“Bold of you to assume I have scruples, Tweety Bird, I’m touched, really,” Tony said amusedly while snacking on blueberries.

“I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war, and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them,” Rogers said firmly.

Alex hissed, “I bow to _no one._ I am not a weapon to be commanded.”

“Yeah, what he said. Following’s not really my style,” Tony added.

“And you're all about _style,_ aren't you?” Rogers spit out.

“Of the people in this room, which one is; A) wearing a spangly outfit, and B) not of use? Even Fawks over there is contributing by keeping Bruce in his happy place,” Tony shot back.

“Steve, tell me none of this smells a little funky to you?” Bruce asked gently, ever the diplomat.

“Just find the cube,” He said sternly before departing down the hallway. Alex knew he was going to go looking for, and eventually find, the Phase 2 weapons.

Back in the lab, Tony remarked, “That's the guy my dad never shut up about? I’m wondering if they shouldn't have kept him on ice.”

“The guy's not wrong about Loki though. He does have the jump on us,” Bruce pointed out.

“What he's got is an ACME dynamite kit. It's gonna blow up in his face, and I'm gonna be there when it does,” Tony declared.

“I’ll be sure to bring my camera,” Alex added.

“Yeah? You gonna be suiting up with the rest of us then?” Tony asked, interested.

“Of course. I do so rarely get the opportunity to fight here on Earth, much less one that’s likely to be on a large enough scale that I can use my abilities to their full potential.”

“What’s that look like? I know you said you could…eat planets, but, like, how do the mechanics of that work?”

“My ability to take a cohesive form was one that was a result of my experimentation. My kind normally exist as decentralized cells acting together and sharing a single consciousness and only have a cohesive, mobile form when bonded to a host. In my most basic form, I am a disease. The lab could not take that away from me. I need only sneeze wrong and your planet would fall to its knees in a matter of weeks. Those infected die by my whims alone. They could live for decades and never even know they were walking plague factories, or they could die in mere moments as I shred their DNA to ribbons. But that is not how I fight a battle.”

Tony looked rather surprised that he answered the question so bluntly. “Huh, well that’s…the implications of that are shit-your-pants terrifying. I’m almost afraid to ask, but how would you fight a battle?”

Alex adopted a terrifying smile. Instead of replying, he twisted his form into a familiar shape.

 _“Ohholyfuckingshit!_ Nopenopenope, all the nope! All aboard the Nope-Train, destination: Fuck-that-istan!” Tony babbled, rapidly backing up. His hip clipped a table and he lost his balance, falling on his ass where he continued scooting backwards.

Alex fucking lost it. That was an even better reaction than he’d been hoping for! He threw his crested head back and howled with laughter. Bruce wasn’t much better off, practically doubled over. He recovered quickly though and went over to offer a hand to the shaken engineer.

Tony took the offered hand and tried to get himself under control. “Fucking shit, warn a guy next time! I have a heart condition!”

“No you don’t,” Alex replied, still faintly chuckling.

Tony shot him a look. “I keep forgetting that was you. Still, I have a hole in my chest cavity bigger than a soda can, so maybe let me know first before my heart tries to force its way outta my chest?”

“No promises~!” Alex sing-songed.

“Bruce was right, you are kind of an asshole. But then again, I’m me, so stones and glass houses and all that,” Tony rambled. “Still though, that’s incredible. You can just take any shape you want?”

Alex just shifted into Tony’s form, replacing his right arm with his Blade. 

“Any shape,” Alex nodded, borrowing Tony’s voice. “Well, so long as I have the mass to support it.”

“Holy fuck that’s so cool,” Tony breathed, eyeing the massive Blade and roving his eyes over Alex’s perfect recreation of his face, minus the eyes. “Is that metal? Where’d that come from? Can you change parts of your body into metal?”

“Sadly, no. The metal you see is actually always a part of me, held in minute particles inside all of my cells. When I wish it, the metal particles shift onto the surfaces of the cells and lock together. I cannot move the cells after that unless I draw the metal back in, so I mainly use it for cutting edges or immobile armor plates.”

Tony’s hands were twitching like he desperately wanted to touch and examine, but knew better than to do that without asking first.

Alex shifted the blade up, holding it horizontally in front of his chest. “I know that look. You may touch if you wish, but don’t pull on my spines. When not in an active battle scenario, they are softer and act as sensory organs.”

Tony eagerly surged forwards, running his fingertips across the flat of the Blade, avoiding the cutting edge.

“It’s really warm. What’s your normal body temperature?” He asked as he tapped the metal and chitin parts of the Blade with a careful fingernail, likely comparing the sensations. “Can you feel any of this?” He asked, delicately trailing a finger up the hardened coils of black biomass that made up the upper part of the sword-arm.

Alex smiled fondly, “On the parts that are not made of metal, yes. I normally run at about 105℉, though I can adjust that a bit to better imitate a human body temperature, or I can push it higher if I so desire.” He shivered a bit, small tendrils shifting across his skin as Tony gently brushed a short sensory-spine.

“Do you know what kind of metal this is? I can’t figure it out, and I know a lot about metal and alloys. It’s strangely slick to the touch, but not like it’s slimy, more like it’s covered in teflon.”

“I believe it is called vibranium on this planet,” Alex said smugly, enjoying the way Tony’s eyes lit up, like Christmas had come early.

“No way. Really?! Where’d you even get this much?! I’m a billionaire, and even for me, getting my hands on this much would be a massive pain in the ass, not to mention my pocketbook!”

“I got it from where most of the vibranium on this planet comes from: Wakanda. I didn’t even have to steal it. They are sitting on a literal mountain made of it, so I just took on a suitable burrowing form and mined it myself before leaving with no one the wiser. Despite all their vaunted vibranium-based technology and advanced security systems, it was laughably easy. They are so assured of their own superiority that they’ve become quite complacent over the years. I have several hundred pounds of the stuff stored away in my personal piece of otherspace. Offer me something interesting enough and I might be willing to negotiate a trade,” Alex grinned, fangs flashing from behind a neatly-trimmed goatee.

“Okay, first of all: _hell_ yes. I will fucking _invent_ something interesting enough if I have to. I _need_ to know what vibranium tastes like. Secondly: seeing you wear my face is fucking freaky and I love it. Thirdly: you mean to tell me that Wakanda—tiny, goat-farming Wakanda— _that_ Wakanda, is actually some kind of super-advanced society that’s hoarding all the vibranium to themselves?!”

Alex shifted into his Mercer shape, easily dissolving the Blade away so a more regular-looking human arm could take its place. “That is exactly what I’m saying. They have holographic forcefields that can cover entire cities, and the stingy **bosh’tets** hoard it all to themselves and laugh at the world from behind them. They see the rest of the world as primitive and beneath them, and they hold a special disdain for the Western world. They believe vibranium to be a sacred gift from their panther goddess and even have special teams dedicated to tracking down any stray or ‘stolen’ vibranium, regardless of whether or not that particular piece of ore has ever touched so much as a single grain of Wakandan soil. That is why it is so rare and hard to get your hands on.”

“Well, that’s racist and lame. Remind me to hack the shit out of them later. Maybe then they’ll realize what scrooges they’re being. The sheer potential vibranium has for so many fields of study is incalculable, and it deserves to be shared with the world,” Tony frowned.

“My thoughts exactly. It would be my genuine pleasure to help you expose them,” Alex purred.

“E.T., I do believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship,” Tony declared, holding out a hand to shake like the businessman he was.

“I couldn’t agree more. Let the world tremble in the wake of our chaos,” Alex smiled wickedly, taking the hand and giving it a firm but gentle shake.

The smile he got in return was positively devious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, what do you think? i like it a lot better than my OG version. FYI 'helvetegyte' according to google translate, means hellspawn in Norwegian. i dont know old norse and there wasnt an option for that, so i went with the next best thing.
> 
> also, i've hit a bit of a crossroads...tony and bruce have so much chemistry, and i love the science boyfriends ship, but idk if i should, like, do anything with them, if that makes sense? i mean, pepper and tony is alright i guess, but i always felt like pepper was making tony choose between her and iron man, and that is a big plot point in iron man 3, but then they like renege it or something? idk wtf is up with those two, but in my story, their relationship is not hinted at or talked about yet so it could go either way in my story rn, and tony is now no longer totally human, and i imagine that might cause some issues in a romantic partnership. pepper can handle a lot of crazy, but the MCU made it seem like she had a pretty hard limit that she eventually reached. i've never written a ship before, so idk how good it'd be, if i do go that direction, i'll try my best though.
> 
> so i guess what im asking is this: what should i do regarding tony and bruce's interactions, and what about tony and pepper? do i have tony in a pairing, and if so, who should tony end up with? alternatively, he could be paired with no one and just be super BFFs with bruce and alex. idk, him not being in a relationship of some sort seems a bit weird to me...arg, someone help :(
> 
> SONG CREDIT (in order of appearance):
> 
> Wild by Raylee
> 
> To the Sky by Owl City (written for the 'Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole' movie)
> 
> Siren by Kailee Morgue


	13. ...'Cause I Need to Report a Fucking Dead Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOOOOO!! time for the exciting conclusion of the helicarrier arc, complete with much anticipated roasting! before you dig in, i'd like to give a huge shoutout to everyone who commented, with special mentions for CuddlyMakani, Dreamstitch, Infestation, Acidwing, Firefly_Aki, Hamnster209, EphemeralDichonomy, SuperFandoms, and last but certainly not least: TorieStory! i enjoy reading all your comments so much, and i can always count on you guys to make me smile when i've had a shitty day, so thanks for that!! <3
> 
> as for the bruce and tony and alex situation, i've decided to go with a queerplatonic relationship between all three of them. i feel like a pairing between just two would unbalance the whole thing, and i dont really do romance in my stories, so i feel like my ability to write a good ship would interfere with my flow. as for tony/pepper, the ships fine, but in this story with all the freaky weirdness, a normal relationship doesnt have a snowballs chance in hell, especially since pepper had trouble with tony throwing himself into heroics so much in canon. now tony will have two support morons who will help keep him safe as they all skip into the sunset to go do stupid dangerous shit together, b/c bros that destabilize reality together, stay together :D
> 
> someone made a really good point that the likely reason tony was such a sexual character was because he craved connection with people but b/c he had shit parents, he didnt know how to go about getting it. 
> 
> in my story, alex takes one look at this man and goes: u, ur mine now. thats how this works. prepare to be loved. no, you do not get a choice. don't like it? tough titties. *proceeds to cuddle*
> 
> meanwhile tony's like: *tears in his eyes* its all ive ever wanted
> 
> lol im a sucker for wholesome bonding, and i want my bois to be happy, so they all get to be platonic life partners while the rest of the universe misinterprets the shit out of everything *gives thor some side eye* (...im a bit disappointed nobody picked up on my hints that thor thought bruce was like alex's consort or something, lol whatevs)

Bruce and Tony resumed their work once Rogers had taken his leave, and Alex once again resumed his viper-owl shape and perched menacingly in a dark corner, watching everything with careful eyes. The two scientists conversed in quiet tones, with Tony occasionally asking Bruce questions about what he’d been up to since he’d become a fugitive.

The pair were totally engrossed in each other and Alex was beginning to feel like a third wheel. That was alright though. He could suck it up for a few days until Bruce’s excitement over making a new friend died down. They’d all settle into a rhythm eventually.

In the meantime though, Alex was exceedingly bored. A little lightbulb went off in his head and he smiled dangerously. He took on the form of a black cat and trotted out the door with not a whisper of noise. He made his way through dim hallways until he passed through a particularly shadowed hallway, where he adopted a new face.

_ People really have to stop leaving their DNA everywhere. You never know what someone might do with a few stray hairs. _

He wasn’t just referencing who he was currently disguising himself as, either. A very petty part of Alex was outrageously pleased with what he was able to discover and replicate using a certain set of short blond hairs. Rogers got all kinds of special treatment because of the Serum, and like Syndrome from  _ The Incredibles _ had said, ‘if everyone's super, then no one is.’

Alex was just  _ itching _ for the chance to throw his accomplishment in Rogers’ and SHIELDRA’s collective faces. Decades of the best and brightest scientists Earth had to offer, and Alex had done what they’d never accomplished in 70 years in little over two hours. It hadn’t even been that hard. 

Granted, Alex was cheating outrageously because he’d made biology his bitch literally years ago, but he was of the mind that if you had the capability but  _ weren’t _ cheating outrageously at life, you were doing something very wrong.

Drawing himself out of his musings, he wound his energies tightly within himself so that Loki wouldn’t out him before he’d had his fun. Luckily for him, his energies lent themselves very well to concealment and stealth.

He sashayed into the room containing the glass prison cell and approached Loki, who hadn’t yet noticed him. Alex cleared his throat to grab the god’s attention and enjoyed the way the man jumped and whirled around. Loki recited lines Alex knew from memory, and Alex did the same. 

He knew the cell’s cameras were on, and he wondered how everyone else would react. He’d left the monitor and sound on in the lab before he’d left, after all.

“There's not many people that can sneak up on me,” Loki said, clearly trying to brush off the way Alex had startled him.

“But you figured I'd come.”

“After. After whatever tortures Fury could concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate.”

“I wanna know what you've done to Agent Barton,” Alex said. He didn’t actually give much of a fuck about Barton, but he was playing a part and had to stay in character.

“I'd say I've expanded his mind.”

“And once you've won, once you're king of the mountain, what happens to his mind?”

“Is this love, Agent Romanoff?”

“Love is for children. I owe him a debt,” Alex was internally smirking at having successfully lied to the liesmith. There had to be some sort of award for that, right?

“Tell me.”

Alex pulled the chair that was sitting near the security console of the cell in front of the glass before taking a seat.

“Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh...well, I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skillset. I didn't care who I used it for, or on. I got on SHIELD's radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call.”

“And what will you do if I vow to spare him?”

“Not let you out.”

Loki laughed. “Ah, no. But I like this. Your world is in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

“Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that; I'm Russian... or I was.”

“What is it you want?”

“It's really not that complicated. I've got red in my ledger, I'd like to wipe it out.”

“Can you? Can you wipe out that much red? Drakov’s daughter? São Paulo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything. Your ledger is dripping—it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?” Loki stood up then, seemingly angry. “This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer...  _ pathetic!” _

Back in the lab, Bruce and Tony watched Natasha confront Loki. Then Bruce noticed that Alex had left at some point. He stared at the screen and said nothing, keeping his suspicions to himself for the moment.

“You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will  _ never _ go away!” Loki slammed his fists on the glass and Alex flinched away, staying on script. 

Alex internally sighed as Loki continued his monologue.

_ Why do the villains always have to monologue? _

“I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you! Slowly. Intimately. In every way he knows you fear! And when he wakes just long enough to see his good work, when he screams, I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!” Loki spat. Alex turned away from the cell and grasped his upper arms in a self-hug.

Internally, he was fucking  _ cackling. _

Externally, he whispered, “You're a monster.”

“No, you brought the monster,” Loki declared, eyes shining madly. Alex turned around and noted the slight shimmering blue sheen in Loki’s otherwise perfectly green eyes.

_ Fucking called it. Time for the big reveal! _

**“Legeth'drn.”** _(Idiot.)_

“What?” Loki said, shocked and confused.

Alex smiled, exposing razor fangs settled neatly behind red-painted lips just before dropping the disguise completely in a whirl of tendrils. Loki stumbled back, clearly not expecting what he thought to be Agent Romanoff to suddenly transform into someone completely different. He uncoiled his energies and watched in satisfaction as Loki all but threw himself backwards.

“I—I apologize for threatening your Chosen. I didn’t know,” Loki stuttered, clearly trying to save his own skin. Not that Alex could really blame him, but he wasn’t about to let such a slight go unremarked on. 

Overall, he really had nothing against Loki and actually quite liked him as a character in the MCU, despite how Marvel had not done his character any true justice. Perhaps when Alex broke the hold Thanos had over Loki, he could think more about potentially befriending the god in some fashion if he proved to be worth Alex’s time. As it stood though, the god had threatened Bruce, and Alex just didn’t abide by threats to him. He needed to make it  _ abundantly _ clear that he was not to be touched.

To achieve that, he prowled closer to the glass and hissed out his threats. “No, you didn’t, but I do not care. You tried to influence his mind, to twist his thoughts to ones of self-doubt and violence, and for that I would have your life. As it stands, I would like nothing more than to add your face and memories to my vast collection, but fortunately for you, **Ya Gokar'luh** _(My Treasure)_ dislikes frivolous deaths. He finds it distasteful, and his generous mercy is the _only_ reason you still draw breath, puny godling. I shall let this transgression go, just this once because he begged it of me, but threaten him again, and your soul is _forfeit,”_ Alex said sibilantly, fudging the truth here and there, but he had already proved that Loki’s lie-detection skills were not infallible. The god nodded rapidly in understanding.

Alex leaned back, face now relaxed and calm, and spoke in a louder voice, “For all that you claim to have brought the monster, you have no idea what a monster really is, do you? I was stolen from my home and twisted into something nearly unrecognizable from what I once was, much like you were, Laufeyson. I know I am a monster, and I embrace it. You know your own nature and deny it, and you suffer for it, trying to twist yourself into something more acceptable to the masses. You may deny it all you want, but you crave their approval, their validation. You say you languished in Thor’s shadow, but that was because you were trying to be him. Take it from a shapeshifter: an imitation will always look pale before the original. Well, unless you’re me. Then no one could ever tell the difference, but semantics. Point is, if you stay on this path you will destroy yourself and all that you hold dear, all by complete accident. For all that you are a trickster god, it seems the one you have fooled the most is yourself. Besides, everyone knows that real monsters are big and purple and covet colorful gems and golden things. Or is that dragons? Either way, you should know that dragon-slaying is more fun with friends,” He said cryptically before he winked and sauntered out the door, laughing at the gobsmacked expression on the godling’s face, but mentally his mind was spinning with questions.

Alex had no clue why Loki had never told anyone about Thanos torturing the shit out of him and forcing him to head the invasion. It would have absolved him of a lot of the blame, so why keep it to himself? Was it warrior’s pride, or something else?

Behind him, Loki was frozen in shock, mind whirling with a thousand unanswered questions, but for the first time in a very long time, the god felt the faint stirrings of hope.

* * *

Up in the lab, everyone else was in various states of surprise. All eyes were glued to the monitor, Natasha’s especially. Her eyes were wide in shock. She knew Bright Eyes could shapeshift, but to be able to mimic her so completely after only knowing her for a few days was frightening.

“Holy fuck, he’s  _ good,” _ Stark said. Natasha echoed the sentiment. 

“So it seems. Dr. Banner, Agent Romanoff informed me about your traveling buddy, but clearly we didn’t have the full picture.  _ What, _ exactly, did you bring aboard my ship?” Fury asked, deadly calm. 

Fury and Natasha had both headed up to the lab to inquire about the progress on tracking the cube, and had found both scientists glued to a monitor that was playing a live feed from the Hulk-proof cell.

Imagine her surprise when the live feed showed one Natasha Romanoff interrogating Loki, when she was standing right next to them all up in the lab on a completely different part of the Helicarrier. She and Fury both watched in shock as the god was expertly played into revealing his plans.

“If you wanted to know so badly, you could have just asked,” Came a voice from behind them all. 

Everyone turned and saw the ‘man’ in question casually leaned up against the doorframe, in the form of a tall male in a hoodie and strange leather jacket.

* * *

“Alright then. What in the fuck are you?” Fury asked bluntly. “Thor and Loki seem to know what’s up and are scared shitless of you, but other than a bunch of mysterious disappearances, a freaky language, and some shapeshifting, we know very little. Give me a goddamn straight answer before I launch you off the side of my ship.”

“You want answers, hmm? Straightforward and with no beating around the bush? You’ll sleep better at night if you don’t know,” Alex said leisurely. 

“You have ten seconds to start talking before I start shooting,” Fury deadpanned, hand hovering from where his pistol was holstered.

“Alright then,” Alex said, “But before we do that, I do believe the good Captain has some questions.”

Alex had heard the Captain stomping down the hallway and had cleverly stalled for time. As the man got closer, he moved to the side to let the man pass.

And so, in marched Steve Rogers, master of shitty timing, carrying a Phase 2 rifle.

Rogers looked around at the tense atmosphere before spotting Fury and demanding to know why Fury had a HYDRA weapon. Alex watched in amusement as Fury floundered as he tried to explain everything away.

“Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we're—” Tony cut Fury off by pulling up a schematic for a large, missile-looking weapon.

“I'm sorry, Nick, what were you lying?” Tony said, face blank.

“I was wrong, Director. The world hasn't changed a bit,” Rogers declared.

“Did you know about this?” Bruce demanded, glaring at Romanoff, slitted green eyes flaring brighter in anger, along with his markings, startling everyone who hadn’t seen them glow before. 

Thor wandered in at that moment, momentarily drawing everyone’s eye before everyone disregarded him for the moment. Thor himself seemed a bit like a deer in the headlights, and the large man swiftly moved into an unobtrusive position off to the side of the room. He watched Alex with a wary eye, looking between Bruce’s glowing form and him.

“You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, Doctor?” Romanoff asked calmly.

Alex heard the heartbeats of everyone in the room begin to rise. Alex noted the steadily increasing glow of Loki’s scepter. With everyone’s attention diverted by Bruce and what they likely thought to be an imminent Hulk-Out, Alex took the opportunity to sneak around the edge of the room to stand next to the Mind Stone. 

Its whisperings had gotten louder and more insistent, but he still couldn’t make out anything concrete. The low, indistinct sounds almost resembled a Song, if he tilted his head and squinted really hard, interestingly enough. If he strained, he could almost feel the emotions in the Stone’s seemingly lifeless energies. He eyed the blue gem containing the yellow Infinity Stone, and pondered.

Even if he was right, he had to wait for events to unfold before he could begin really fucking the timeline up. He idly wondered what the Time Stone’s opinion on all of this was. Did it know that Alex was planning on screwing up the timeline and had already seen the outcome, or was it just as clueless as everyone else?

The Stones seemed at least somewhat alive to his senses, but Alex wasn’t sure just how aware they were or if they had any influence besides when someone was using them.

He easily rebuffed its mental probe for the umpteenth time, and watched as its energy slowly wound through the air, influencing everyone into an argument. All his pondering had taken less than a few seconds, so he tuned back into the conversation and waited for an opportunity to hurl barbs at people he didn’t like, mainly Rogers. 

He had some real zingers saved up for just this moment and couldn’t wait to use them. He snuck back to his previous position, and no one seemed to notice that he’d moved.

* * *

“We were in the forgotten corners of the world, we were pretty well removed,” Bruce stated flatly.

“Loki's manipulating you,” Romanoff said, referencing the way they all heard Loki reveal his plans involving Hulk.

“And you've been doing what, exactly?” Bruce said with a raised eyebrow.

“You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you,” Romanoff pointed out.

“Yeah, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction.”

Fury growled and pointed at Alex and Thor. “Because of them!”

“Me I understand, but the Æsir? You do know he is duty-bound to protect Midgard, right?” Alex said, raising one unimpressed eyebrow.

“Last year Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly,  _ hilariously, _ outgunned,” Fury said to the room as a whole, glaring at the two aliens.

“My people want nothing but peace with your planet!” Thor stated.

“But you're not the only people out there, are you? And you're not the only threat. Mr. Face-Stealer over there just proves it. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, that can't be controlled,” Fury explained.

“Try to control me, and you will suffer the consequences,” Alex hissed. “I bow to no one and I am not a weapon to be commanded. Unlike some, I do not dance to the tune of anyone other than myself. Not everything can be controlled. Not me, and not the cube.”

“Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is a signal to all the realms that Earth is ready for a higher form of war,” Thor explained, looking grim.

“A higher form?” Rogers asked incredulously.

“You forced our hand. We had to come up with  _ something,” _ Fury argued.

“A nuclear deterrent. ‘Cause that always calms everything right down,” Tony said sarcastically.

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?” Fury quipped.

“I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep—” Rogers started but was interrupted.

“Wait! Wait! Hold on! How is this now about me?” Tony asked, looking upset.

“I'm sorry, isn't everything?” Rogers shot back.

“I thought humans were more evolved than this,” Thor stage-whispered to Alex, who shrugged. The tendrils of energy from the scepter had a harder time latching onto Thor and Bruce, and to a lesser extent Tony, but it seemed like Alex was the only one who was totally immune. 

He wondered if it had anything to do with his innate connection to the Void. The way ribbons of invisible light wove through the air was mesmerizing, and it was rather distracting. Shame it was being used for evil.

His anger skyrocketed once he felt it latch onto Bruce finally, its influence tenuous at best due to Bruce’s own energies partially shielding him against the worst of its effects, but Alex held back on intervening for the moment. The situation was delicate, and his timing had to be perfect.

“Excuse me, did  _ we _ come to  _ your _ planet and blow shit up?” Fury accused, turning to face Thor.

“Do you always treat your champions with such mistrust?” Thor returned.

“SHIELD monitors potential threats,” Natasha said.

“Captain America is on a watch list?” Bruce asked, eyebrows raised.

“You're on a watchlist? Are you above or below angry bees?” Stark quipped, addressing Rogers.

“I swear to God, Stark, one more crack…!” Rogers warned.

“Threat! That was a verbal threat! I feel threatened!” Tony called out dramatically.

The pulsing ribbons of light grew in intensity, and Alex was about ready to step in. He was pissed about the Stone putting its filthy magic on Bruce and Tony, and all the shouting was giving him a headache, besides. Metaphorically, of course. Alex no longer had a centralized brain that would suffer from such inconveniences. God, he loved not being a wimpy human anymore.

“You speak of control, yet you court chaos,” Thor intoned imperiously.

“It's his M.O., isn't it? I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that  _ makes _ chaos. We're...we're a time-bomb,” Bruce muttered, hands twitching. Alex hated the look of fear and nervousness on his features, fins quivering. Bruce should never look like that.

“You need to step away,” Fury said to Bruce, warningly.

“Aw, why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam? He’s got his urge to smash handled apparently, so what’s the harm?” Tony said, slinging an arm around Rogers’s shoulder like they were friends.

“You know damn well why! Back off!” Rogers said, pushing Tony away.

“Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me,” Tony quietly challenged, getting up in Rogers’s face.

“Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?” Rogers asked harshly. 

That line pissed Alex off so much, for so many different reasons.

_ Fuck you, Rogers! Tony is a better man than you could even imagine being! Unlike you, even without his suit, Tony is still a shining gift to this world, helping advance and revolutionize half a dozen fields of science at once. You’d be  _ nothing _ without the Serum. _

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, inventor. You do realize I built that suit with nothing but my own two hands and my gigantic, sexy brain, right?” Tony asked sardonically.

_ Thank you! _

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you,” Rogers said, like he was stating a fact.

_ Okay, that is  _ it!

Alex decided to take control of the situation.

“What footage?” Alex hissed, his tone and cutting voice silenced the room. His energies writhed, making the scepter back off a bit. And Alex genuinely was curious. 

Tony had never had the disastrous birthday party because he’d invented Starkanium much earlier than canon, and Alex had taken care of Vanko the second the man had made the ill-advised decision to try and build an Arc Reactor in his apartment and so the Expo had gone off without a hitch. 

Tony had never even learned of Vanko’s existence, and the most notoriety that the man had received was a brief mention in the local paper about dying from an explosion in his homemade workshop. Such experimental tech was so dangerous, didn’t you know? It was liable to just overload and explode for seemingly no reason at all if it wasn’t handled properly. Such a  _ mysterious tragedy, _ that explosion.

Alex found it very fitting that the man had died languishing in obscurity. He wanted nothing more than to be recognized, and Tony had never even known the man had a whole giant revenge scheme planned. Tony had gone to Monaco and attended the race, but this time as a spectator, and the race had been uninterrupted by any crazy bastards with electric whips and knock-off Arc Reactors.

With the only other man with enough smarts or prerequisite knowledge taken care of, Alex had inadvertently strengthened Tony’s argument against the Senate. No other countries were anywhere close to producing an Iron Man suit anytime soon. But back to the matter at hand. 

“What?” Rogers asked, confused.

“What footage did you watch, and what right does that give you to judge him? Is it because you’re  _ Captain America? _ Do you think that gives you the power to decide the worth of others? Going off of your own logic, Rogers, I watched your footage, and that gives  _ me _ the right to decide what  _ you’re _ worth, and you know what I think? I think you are nothing but a  _ showgirl, _ a dancing monkey to parade in front of crowds, a propaganda piece meant to increase morale and bond sales, and  _ nothing _ more. Going off of your footage, you are nothing but a grand lie. The legendary Captain America, paragon of justice, here to save us all! He punches Hitler and saves kittens from trees, ain’t he a swell guy?” Alex snarled, baring his fangs at the man.

The man himself looked shocked at his own argument being thrown in his face, and Alex continued, “Any meathead can be given a blunt instrument and told who’s head to go bash in. You’re not special because you’re marginally better at it than some random human off the streets. Tony worked hard for what he has, he built his empire with his own two hands and his own brilliant mind. He built that suit in a cave out of a box of scraps while being held captive by terrorists who tortured him for three months. 

You had your greatness gifted to you. You were  _ nothing _ before the Serum, and you’d still be nothing without it. You were a lab rat, Rogers, and you just happened to get  _ lucky. _ You know the funny thing about successful lab experiments, Rogers? They can  _ always _ be replicated. A few strands of your hair and I had everything I needed to recreate the Serum. Biology is my fucking  _ bitch, _ Rogers. Humans are not nearly so complicated as you seem to think you are.  _ It barely took me two hours. _ Two hours to recreate everything that makes you  _ so _ special,” Alex hissed, the echo in his voice growing more prominent, red overtaking the blue in his eyes, he was so infuriated. But he wasn’t done, not by a long shot. 

He utterly ignored the way Fury and Romanoff had stiffened at his announcement that he had successfully figured out the Serum. They were likely already plotting how to get the info out of him. They could go fuck off and ingest an entire satchel of richards, because Alex wasn’t giving it to them. They clearly couldn’t be trusted to make good character assessments, especially considering the fact that HYDRA was so far up their collective asses that they could brush SHIELD’s teeth from the other side.

“You were handed greatness and had a whole legend built around your great lie by people who wouldn’t even let you go off to fight, because they knew what a loose cannon you’d be! You’re not a Captain, hell, you’re not even an officer! You didn’t even finish basic training, and it shows. 

You endangered Howard Stark and Peggy Carter by getting them to fly you across enemy lines to enact an unsanctioned rescue mission that you had no right to perform! The only reason it worked was sheer  _ dumb luck, _ and when you returned, everyone seemed to  _ conveniently _ forget all the rules and regulations you broke, the orders you disregarded, and the training you never did, because you were  _ the _ Captain America, the man who could do no wrong! Anyone else would have gotten court-marshaled for insubordination, but not you, because you were the SSR’s darling, the shining jewel in their collection, a pretty trinket that had suddenly become  _ useful,” _ Alex sneered again and got up in Rogers’ face like he’d done with Tony.

“So tell me Rogers: big man with a shield and some magic steroids. Take those away, what are  _ you? _ Do you know? Because I know. You’re a  _ lie, _ Rogers. A little guy from Brooklyn?  _ Please. _ All I see before me is a man who let power and authority go to his head and is used to getting his way and having everyone fall in line and follow his lead. Do you know what they call people like that, Rogers? You appear to have forgotten, so I’ll do you a favor and remind you: people call them  _ bullies,” _ Alex practically whispered the words, and Rogers looked like his whole world had come crashing down.

Everyone else was wearing various expressions of differing comedic value, but Alex noticed none of it, not even Tony’s half-whispered comment of, “Holy shit, Captain America just got fucking  _ destroyed. _ In  _ my _ defense. What is even happening right now?”

Alex turned his attention away from everyone and set his sights on the pulsating stone responsible for the whole asinine argument in the first place.

“And  _ you,” _ He hissed at the Stone. “Don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten about you. Nasty little thing, aren’t you? Sinking your claws into everyone, causing strife, turning us all against one another…but you miscalculated. Did you think I would just sit back and do nothing as you put your filthy magic all over my precious people? No. No one touches what is mine without suffering the consequences. Not men, not gods, and  _ especially not you. _ So take your magic, and  **_FH’YEK N’AL_ ** _ (FUCK OFF)!” _ He roared, violently ripping the malicious magic from the air and shoving it back into the Stone, taking his own energies and wrapping them around the blue gem, locking the Stone’s power away, at least for a while.

The room was dead silent, aside from Alex’s angry clicking growls, this time in an octave everyone could hear. He realized that some tendrils had emerged from his form in his anger and were thrashing in the air. The shadows in the room were elongated and writhing unnaturally.

Alex took a deep breath he didn’t need and reigned in his errant tendrils and energy simultaneously. He shot a glare at the scepter that was only dimly lit from within. **“Soth-mgepmgvulgtlagln uh'eoghnah,”** _(Void-damned scepter.)_ He spat. Everyone in the room besides Bruce and Tony shuddered at the eldritch language.

The monitor behind Bruce suddenly beeped, and Alex abruptly remembered what came directly after the infamous argument scene. Alex’s eyes widened and he shouted, “BRACE!” just before an explosion rocked the Helicarrier. The floor dropped out from underneath him and he fell.

* * *

Alex hit the floor below the lab in his Xenomorph form, hissing and swearing up a storm as he searched for his friend.

**“Soth-mgepmgvulgtlagln ah'ur ng h' leth'drn m'thu!”** _(Void-damned archer and his stupid arrows!)_

Alex thrummed out a homing call that rattled the metal panels and received one in return that warbled oddly, meaning that Bruce was in the midst of a transformation.

Alex had no regard for the Helicarrier as he tore through steel walls like paper to get to his friend.

He found his friend sprawled out on the floor as green overtook his skin as he groaned. The transformation was a little painful for Bruce if he stayed small for too long. Alex made his way over and nuzzled a large green shoulder. He saw Romanoff staring with huge eyes, not daring to breathe, and Alex hatched a wicked plan.

_ [Hey Bruce, you wanna have some fun? SHIELD as a whole has no idea you’re still just yourself like this. I suggest we fuck with their heads a little. They were ever-so-kind in building you that cage, after all.] _

Bruce growled at the reminder, and Romanoff huddled down, trying to hide in the shadow of the debris she was caught under.

_ [I just wanna get the hell off this flying deathtrap. Where’s the nearest exit? Or convenient wall, I’m not picky.] _ Bruce grunted, tired of everything.

_ [This way I think. Should we free Romanoff? I vote we just leave her there.] _ Alex said slyly.

Bruce turned narrowed eyes onto the spy in question, and she trembled in fear.

_ [We should probably free her. She may get killed by enemy soldiers if we don’t.] _

_ [So?] _

_ [Alex!] _

_ [Ugh, fine!] _

Alex used his long tail to cut through the beam holding her down and then wrapped the appendage around her ankle and yanked her out. She yelped in surprise and tried to grab for her gun as Alex hung her upside-down in front of him.

He spread his jaws and extended his inner mouth a little, hissing just a bit for the scare factor as acidic saliva dripping down his fangs to smoke and sizzle against the solid metal floor.

She redoubled her attempts to grab for her gun, but a large webbed hand reached out and plucked it from its holster before she could get to it. Giant green fingers crushed it effortlessly. Bruce regarded her with something resembling apathy before he grunted out, “No eating allies.”

Alex huffed and dropped her. She landed on her feet in a remarkable display of acrobatics and sprinted out of the room like her ass was on fire.

Bruce watched her run in terror before he roared in frustration and tore his way through several walls, intent on leaving as quickly as possible. 

Alex followed behind him, occasionally offering directions over the bond.

* * *

They encountered no other people until they emerged on the Helicarrier’s hangar deck. It was filled with Quinjets and fighter planes of various designs.

They both spotted the large windows on the other side and began making their way towards them. Agents were pointing and screaming in terror, and eventually some special brand of idiot decided it would be a good idea to start shooting at them.

Bruce snarled in annoyance, shielding his face with a large webbed hand. Alex shrieked in outrage and spat a bolt of eldritch energy at a nearby jet where some agents were taking cover behind it and shooting at them. It crumpled up on itself like it was made of paper, squished into a tiny ball of metal and wires no bigger than the average household oven.

They screamed again and scattered like the rats they were, but they soon resumed shooting. Bruce, who usually disliked fighting and violence, had seemingly hit his bullshit threshold for the day and used his tail to slap the tarmac below him, shattering it into large chunks. He grabbed one and threw it across the hangar where it smashed another jet. His angry roar was louder than the ensuing fireball.

“GO AWAY!!” He boomed, markings glowing brightly against his form, pupils only thin slits in his rather uncharacteristic anger. He was usually much more patient than this, but considering all the bullshit that had happened recently, Alex couldn’t blame him for venting his frustrations.

The agents, showcasing their stupidity yet again, continued shooting, albeit it was now mostly focused on Alex himself. Bullets bothered him even less than they did Bruce in his Hulk form. He barely even felt them and his toughened chitin was only slightly scuffed by the small-caliber shots, his impossibly dense mass lending even more durability to his form than it normally had.

Didn’t stop them from being annoying though, and Alex was just about to disregard the ‘no eating allies’ rule when something silver came flying across the hangar to smack Bruce across the back of the head.

He went down hard, laid out across the asphalt, bellowing in surprise and pain. The now-identified Mjölnir happened to tumble down his back and landed on his tail, pinning it there under its immovable form, its impossibly heavy weight snapping several of Bruce’s usually very durable tail spines like dry twigs. His dearest friend screeched in agony, accidentally aggravating his injuries and making the damage worse by turning and twisting, trying in vain to dislodge the hammer that refused to budge one bit.

**“GOKAR'LUH’EHYE!!”** _(BRUCE!!)_

Alex’s world was swallowed in red as a frothing chant of KILLKILLKILL thundered through his mind.

~~**_(HEHURTPRECIOUSONEKILLHIMKILLTHEMALLINFECTCONSUMESPREAD)_ ** ~~

Bruce bellowed again, calling out for Alex for help as he tried and failed to free himself.

Alex almost didn’t notice that Bruce was calling out to him in R’Lyehian, something which wasn’t supposed to be possible.  _ Almost. _

**“Aheb’ahehye, hafh! Y'ah ahsk’or! Y' ahor’nafl lift h'! h' ngahnah, h'ah ahorr'ep ya mgyg'bthnknah!”** _(Alex [Precious/Valued/Beloved One], help! I’m stuck! I can’t lift it! It hurts, it’s crushing my tail!)_

The guttural multi-toned sounds of the language of the Void were just enough to snap Alex out of his blind, bloodthirsty rage. Left behind was a  _ much _ more dangerous cold, calculating fury. 

He rushed over and didn’t even bother trying to lift Mjölnir, knowing that it was useless. Instead he stared deeply at it, his own energies rushing over it, probing for weaknesses.

No way was the reason only Thor could lift the thing ‘worthiness’. That was such a load of shit. If that was true, then he didn’t even want to know what the stupid thing found in Rogers to consider him ‘worthy’ like it had in Endgame. Rogers was an arrogant twatwaffle who ran roughshod over laws he was supposed to help uphold and had left Tony for dead in a Siberian Bunker where he’d almost  _ actually _ died.

No, it had to be something else. He likely had only seconds to figure the stupid hammer’s wards out, but that was all he needed. Alex’s mind was composed of several thousand people by now, a large portion of which had been intellectuals and scientists, and all of which had their own knowledge and experiences to draw from.

At this point, Alex’s mind was basically a supercomputer when he really put his mind to something. His energies writhed, and the world seemed to slow down as he poured all his brainpower in picking apart a few-thousand year old hammer’s wards in a matter of moments.

_ There! Got you, you sneaky bastard! …Odin, you sly motherfucker. ‘Worthy’ my fucking viral ass. It’s a goddamn magical fingerprint detector with parental controls based off of Odin’s own personality. Thor does something the All-Daddy wouldn’t approve of, and his magic hammer privileges get revoked. Does the MCU just have a rule that all father-figures have to be lying sacks of shit? What-the-fuck-ever, not my problem. Let’s see you try this one on for size, big boy. _

Alex smirked as he brutally twisted the energies of the ancient war-hammer into something he found more useful, the inscribed runes on the hammer’s sides twisting into the Mark of The Unchained Predator. He smiled a Glasgow grin as he felt Thor attempt to call the hammer back, only for nothing to happen. Mjölnir would respond only to Alex now. He felt the mass of  _ lightning/thunder/rain/storm _ that was Thor’s own unique energy signature rapidly approaching from the left. 

Alex picked up the unresponsive hammer and flung it with but a fraction of his might right where Thor was turning the corner. His hand was extended as if to catch it, but instead of landing neatly in the Æsir’s outstretched hand, it brushed past his fingertips to nail him right in the face, full-force.

It was a good thing Æsir were so sturdy, because if Thor had been any less durable he probably would have died, or at least gotten one hell of a concussion. As it was, the blond’s nose crunched under the unrelenting force of his once-loyal hammer.

The god fell backwards, completely stunned, arms flailing in surprise. Bruce was whimpering slightly from behind him, nursing his injured tail that was straightening itself out and righting crushed fin-spines with little painful-sounding crunching noises, the ripped membranes knitting together fast enough for the naked eye to see.

~~**_(KILLHIMCRUSHHIMSHOULDHAVETHROWNITHARDER)_ ** ~~

Thor was clutching at his face, staring with enormous eyes as the hammer next to him picked itself up and flew back to land with a solid smack in Alex’s own black, six-fingered hand.

“What’s the matter, Æsir? Lose something recently? It couldn’t  _ possibly _ be this little bit of scrap metal, could it?” Alex asked in a saccharine voice that echoed with the voices of the dead and damned, the icy bite of fury only barely disguised.

“H-how?!” Thor asked breathlessly.

“Oh, it’s quite simple: you’re not  _ worthy,” _ Alex sneered, baring enormous fangs that dripped with literal venom that made an Indian Taipan’s look like sugar water.

~~**_(BITEHIMKILLHIMCONSUMEHIM)_ ** ~~

“W-what?! Not possible!” Thor roared, climbing to his feet, fists clenched. His intimidation factor was hurt by the way his nose was crooked and still bleeding quite badly.

“Hmm? I suppose you’d be right under normal circumstances, but you forget the most important fact of all when dealing with me, Æsir:  _ I don’t play by your rules,”  _ Alex hissed as he carelessly tossed the hammer up and caught it by the handle in a gesture Thor was very familiar with. “You know, I always thought your mythos curious. They say that you are the god of thunder, not hammers, but without your little security blanket, you really aren’t much, are you?” Alex taunted.

Thor roared in rage and leapt at him, seemingly intent on fighting him with his bare hands to get his hammer back if he had to. Alex spotted the barest of sparks begin to flicker between the god’s fingers that the god himself didn’t seem to notice. 

_ Kiss my ass canon, you fucking sucked anyways. _

Thor didn’t even get to land a single punch on him. The god seemingly forgot that Alex was never alone, and was blindsided by a vicious right hook maneuver from a giant green fist.

**“Ah nafl syhah ngahnah ya vulgtm’hafh, kor’gepmgshugnah!”** _(Don’t ever hurt my friends, asshole!)_ Bruce roared as his fist solidly connected.

The god flew across the hangar to impact a jet, smashing in the side of it, rendering the expensive plane useless. The god yelled in anger and pulled himself from the wreckage just in time to see Alex turn and hurl the hammer through the large window off to the side, where it flew off into the distance.

_ “Whoops. _ Butterfingers,” Alex said with mock-innocence as he stared right at Thor, who was frozen in horror as he watched his beloved hammer fall thousands of feet to land in the vast ocean with a pathetic little splash. “Chop-chop, Pikachu. Time to find your Thunderstones and evolve past your limits. Put on your big-boy panties and stop using the goddamn training wheels. Figure out what it  _ really _ means to be the god of thunder, and then you might actually be worth my time. Come on Bruce, let’s blow this popsicle stand before it falls outta the sky.”

Alex turned to the broken window and saw a jet hovering there, taking aim with a large Gatling gun.

**“Mga'ehe mgyogor!”** _(Get down!)_ He yelled, pushing Bruce behind him as his larger set of arms bulged and swelled into two thick shields that he held out in front of him seconds before the jet opened fire.

The large caliber armor-piercing bullets slammed repeatedly into his hardened shields, slowly but steady chipping away at them. Alex could keep regenerating them long after the jet ran out of bullets, but it looked like he wouldn’t have to wait. Bruce roared out his anger before he charged on all fours to leap through the window and land bodily on the jet, claws easily shredding through the metal plating as he roared his fury, markings blazing bright.

The pilot was yelling, “Target angry! Target angry!” over and over again, before dissolving into nonsensical screaming as Bruce caught him when he tried to eject. He shook the unfortunate man around a bit and roared in his face, jaws snapping before Bruce just hurled him off to the side where his chute deployed.

The jet then exploded, launching Bruce off towards land as he bellowed in anger. Alex didn’t even think before flinging himself out the shattered window after his friend, sprouting large wings that looked like a strange cross between bird, bat, and insect wings all at once.

* * *

Left behind was a devastated and confused Thor, who looked down at his clenched fists as they literally sparked with his anger. He, too, roared out his rage as he whirled around to go confront his wayward brother. Hammer or no hammer, he was a warrior of Asgard, and he wasn’t about to let something like the loss of his weapon stop him.

The sooner he got back to Asgard with Loki in tow, the faster he could ask Heimdall where his beloved Mjölnir was located and retrieve her, after all.

The Void-Born’s words rattled around in his head as he tried to make sense of them. It had definitely wanted to kill him before, he’d literally felt its bloodlust, so why had it suddenly switched tactics to taunting him and saying things that sounded strangely like life-advice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, how bout them beans. the stupid jock got fucking owned, and nothing alex said was actually false. oof, harsh bro. but 4 real, allow me to press f on the world's smallest keyboard. alex takes no shit and no prisoners. homeboy got straight up murdered, fam. right for the jugular. no mercy.
> 
> alex took one look at rogers, picked apart all his insecurities and threw them in his face when he just went: 'bitch u aint special, i could literally make infinite copies of ur ass, and they would all be more pleasant to interact with than u. get fucked.'
> 
> meanwhile SHIELDRA sweats buckets and alternatively schemes on how to turn alex to their side (a lot of people will be trying to do that shortly. they will all fail miserably. alex does what he wants and literally no one can stop him. unless bruce uses the puppy dog eyes. then he folds like a wet paper towel, but shhhhh)


End file.
